


p 


I • .• 

- > 1 . 


f , 1/ 

> i';- ■:;/ 


I t f. 

// ki‘. 

lV,y': , '•■..I 

' r « 4 . . ► . 1 


P v---* : . f- : 

i ■' ■• fx: , ••■!#• la- • - 






i-.: ‘ ..:u4t- -- -r^ 
• , . r- •’ ‘ , 

1 # * * ^ 


' '»■ 


'• V • .•' ‘ 

■' '■■, ' ■ ‘ . .'> . 1 


■• . ' ..’ ? ; ' i'. ^ 


^ y 

' i 


■' >' *’ 

■ ^ ••• {' 
« ' » l r • •• 

i'‘ ' V- 


I • ■., ’> r •* 

' 1 ; • 1 




Pi 

I it J/-' 


'*! W J I 


■Hfe; ' > i- 










s: > 

















1 


» 


J 













4 . 









■r.i 


t 





■ \ 





% 



THE ROMANCES 


OF 

ALEXANDRE DUMAS. 

NEW SERIES. 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


THE 

l^omancfs of ^leianlire liunias. 


ROMANCES OF THE REIGN OF HENRY II. 


I. The two Dianas 3 vols. 

II. The Page of the duke of Savoy .... 2 vols. 

THE VALOIS ROMANCES. 

I. Marguerite de Valois 2 vols. 

II. La Dame de Monsorhau 2 vols. 

III. the Forty-Five 2 vols. 

THE D'ARTAGNAN ROMANCES. 

I. The Three Musketeers 2 vols. 

II. Twenty Years After 2 vols. 

III. The VICOMTE de BRAGELONNE ; or. Ten Years 

Later 6 vols. 

THE REGENCY ROMANCES. 

I. Le Chevalier D’Harmental i vol. 

II. the Regent’s Daughter i vol. 

A ROMANCE OF THE REIGN OF LOUIS XV. 

OLYMPE de CLfevES vols. 

THE MARIE ANTOINETTE ROMANCES. 

I. Memoirs of a physician 3 vols. 

II. The Queen’s necklace vols 

III. ANGE PlTOU vols. 

IV, La Comtesse de Charny 4 vols. 

v. Le Chevalier de Maison-Rouge i vol. 

THE NAPOLEON ROMANCES. 

The Companions of Jehu vols. 

The Whites and the blues vols. 


The Black Tulip : vol 

The Count of monte Cristo 4 vols. 

The She-wolves of Machecoul\ 

The Corsican Brothers / ^ 


NEW SERIES. 

AsCANIO : A Romance of Francis I. and Benvenuto 

Cellini . . > vols. 

The War of Women ; A Romance of the Fronde . , 2 vols. 

Black : The Story of a Dog vol. 

Tales of the Caucasus — The Ball of Snow, 

AND SULTANETTA vol. 

^ NEW SERIES, n. 

AGENOR de MaULEON vols. 

The Brigand : A Romance of the Reign of Don ) 

Carlos } . . I vol. 

Blanche de Beaulieu ) 

The Horoscope : A Romance of the Reign of Francis 

II vol. 

SYLVANDIRE : A Romance of the Reign of Louis XIV. i vol 

Monsieur de Chauvhlin’s Will \ 

THE Woman with the velvet Necklace/ * * * 







I- I- 






P * K’ ”1 




M 




?)i t 




« ■ 

-A 








* " \ 


i I 




VI'. f;. 






i? 


kf>l 


J" 


fj'/ 


■/ 








• • ♦ 


A^ If 


k*i 


yt^ 






•. r* 


IS i 




v- ' 








fS 




r> 




’1 > 


t / 


'■1=’. 


r*-' ^ T 


i« 


» _ 




4 t; 




t'o: 


) 


€ 


t i 


>.fi 


U ^r 


i 7 l 1 


.^, ■ * 


\t 




' V* 


-i *-r 




^Vv 


•‘ *f 


i^- 


t I 


VS 




fV: 


hi 


I. 


1 


' ♦, 


'>/j 








> t 


M ^ 








a'# 










- Si?’ 5 


yi 


tjj- 


j>i 




!■ 


f* -r.r. 






‘^wr 


*/ 4 . 




^ ^ . ii ' ^ > 1 ^ Cl_; •- A ' 



A i, /-■■•I . ■'*• ‘ -v^ ■ ' ■ . ^ •!* ^ . 


y 








. 'S 'i'J 


i 


j !* • \ T * **)t - ' '•^M 

rT 4 . V »W.c- ^ a 


Tr 

I • 


!L. /.»,j:'&i^S^Wjl 


♦ > 


•.!l|%'\y :4 >^T'' 


R 9 fk 'V ■ t / *^ ■ •i'}^ ^ J 









. 1 > 










Homancc0 of SlleranDre SDumao* 


NEW SERIES. 


THE HOROSCOPE. . 

A ROMANCE OF THE REION OF 
FRANCOIS II. 


„ ^ 

ALEXANDRE DUMAS. 


BOSTON: 

LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. 
1897. 



UU-*L5TJ! e/— I rkAnlirC orrnvFn 



Copyright, 1897, 

By Little, Brown, and Company. 


Mntbcrsitg ^rcss: 

John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U. S.A. 


INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 


The list of characters who play parts of more or less 
prominence in the romance of “ The Horoscope/’ in- 
cludes hardly a name with which we have not been 
made familiar in the earlier volumes of this series. 
FranQois de Gruise, the conqueror of Calais and pro- 
tector of Gabriel de Lorges, Comte de Montgomery, 
at whose hands King Henri II. met his death in the 
lists, is a leading figure in the “Two Dianas,” in 
which we also make the acquaintance of Louis de 
Condfi, ce petit prince tant joli, from whom all the 
later Condfis and Contis were descended, and of 
Coligny, the great general and noble-hearted man, 
whom, with his scarcely less great brother Dande- 
lot, we meet again in the “Page of the Duke of 
Savoy,” fighting valiantly under the banners of the 
despicable race, whose most formidable enemies 
they were destined later to become. Again, in 
“Marguerite de Valois,” we have seen Coligny, on 
that terrible Saint Bartholomew’s night in 1572, 
shot down like a dog in that same house on Rue de 
B^thisy, by the hired bravos of his deadly foes, the 
Guises. 


VI 


INTKODUCTOEY NOTE. 


In “Ascanio” we have our. earliest glimpse of 
Catherine de Mddici, then newly arrived at the 
French court, and newly wedded to him who was 
then only a younger son of France, but who came 
to be King Henri II. In the “ Two Dianas ” we 
meet her again, first as the despised and neglected 
consort of the king, compelled to submit to the 
humiliating ascendency of the beautiful Diane de 
Poitiers, but content, with her brood of possible # 
kings about her, to bide her time ; and later, after 
the king’s sudden and extraordinary death, begin- 
ning to play the part which, under Dumas’ auspices, 
in the matchless romances of the Valois series, we 
have watched her play throughout the reigns of 
Charles IX., whom she loved but little better than 
Frangois II., and Henri III., who was the dearest to 
her heart, as he was almost the most despicable of 
all her sons. In the “Two Dianas” poor Fran^-ois 
is shown to us in a somewhat more favorable light 
than in the “Horoscope.” Weak, spiritless creature 
that he was, the fervent, devoted love which he is 
commonly supposed to have felt for his queen, the 
ill-fated Mary Stuart, has seemed to be the only 
ray of sunshine and romance in his brief and gloomy 
reign. 

The Baron de la Ednaudie will be remembered as 
a prominent actor in that part of the “ Two Dianas ” 
which deals with the earlier religious troubles and 
the conspiracy of Amboise. 

The execution of Anne Dubourg, which is also 
referred to in the “Two Dianas,” aroused intense 
excitement, and caused the most poignant regret and 


INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 


vii 

sorrow throughout France. It did more than any- 
thing else to hasten the outbreak of the first religious 
war. 

“The Mardchal de Saint- Andrd/’ says Larousse, 
“ married Marguerite de Lustrac, — Dame de Fron- 
sac, — by whom he had one daughter, Catherine 
d’Albon, maid of honor to Catherine de Medici. 
After his death, Catherine d’Albon, whose hand he 
had promised to one of the sons of the Due de Guise, 
was confined in the monastery of Longchamp. She 
died there shortly after, poisoned, so it is said, by 
her own mother; according to some, 'at the insti- 
gation of the queen-mother, who dreaded to see the 
marshahs immense fortune in the hands of the 
Guises ; according to others, from jealousy, she and 
her daughter both being in love with the Prince de 
Condd. The Prince de Conde having lost his wife, 
the Mardchale de Saint-Andr4, being then widowed, 
entertained for a moment the hope of marrying 
him.” 

Of the group of poets introduced to us in the 
queen-mother’s salon, Konsard is the only one 
whose name is at all known to-day. Brantfime, 
however, has always been a favorite of lovers and 
students of French literature and history, and he 
has recently become even more widely known 
through the publication by the Society de I’His- 
toire de France of his complete works in eleven 
volumes, together with a very learned and inter- 
esting notice of the man by M. Ludovic Lalanne, 
the editor appointed by the society. His work 
was very miscellaneous in character, and he did 


INTRODUCTOKY NOTE. 


viii 

not pretend to write history, but he was a promi- 
nent figure at court throughout the reigns of the 
later Valois, and many of the facts recorded by 
him in his unique and inimitable style have been 
universally accepted as authentic and worthy of 
a place in more serious chronicles. 

Let us say a word concerning the horoscopes cast 
by the old witch, as related in the fourth chapter 
of the tale before us. 

In April, 1561, the Mardchal de Saint- Andrd, 
the Due de Guise, and the Conn^table de Mont- 
morency formed a league known as the “ triumvir- 
ate,” ostensibly for the purpose of stamping out 
the Protestant heresy, but really from motives of 
self-aggrandizement. Catherine de Medici, then 
queen-regent, fearing that her own power might 
be diminished by the union of the three most pow- 
erful French subjects, ordered the marshal to return 
to his post as governor of Lyon. “ Shortly after,” 
says Larousse, “ the war between Catholics and 
Protestants having broken out, Saint-Andr^ took 
Poitiers, . . . and on December 9, 1562, fought the 
battle of Dreux against the Prince de Condd. As 
he was pursuing the fugitives, he was surrounded 
and taken prisoner by certain Calvinists. One of 
them had taken him up behind him on his horse, 
and they were riding away, when a Catholic named 
Auhigny or Bohigny, whose property he had con- 
fiscated, shot him dead with a pistol.” 

The Prince de Condd, shortly after the date as- 
signed to the events of this tale, was convicted of 
participation in the Conspiracy and so-called Tumult 


INTEODUCTORY NOTE. 


IX 


of Amboise, and sentenced to death; but the death 
of Francois II., and Catherine’s consequent tem- 
porary leaning toward the Huguenots — through 
fear of the Guises — saved him, and for several 
years thereafter he was one of the recognized lead- 
ers of the Protestant armies. “ He was wounded 
at the battle of J arnac,” — we quote again from 
Larousse, — “ and having been made a prisoner, he 
was assassinated in a most cowardly way by Mon- 
tesquiou, captain of the guards to the Due d’Anjou, 
— afterwards Henri III., — who blew out his 
brains with a pistol shot while his wound was 
being dressed at the foot of a tree.” 

The Due de Guise was the recognized chief of 
the Catholic party during the first religious wars, 
which he and his brother, the scarcely less famous 
Cardinal de Lorraine, did so much to foment. He 
was besieging Orleans in 1563, when he was killed 
by a pistol shot fired by a Protestant gentleman 
named Poltrot de Mdrd. As the Due de Guise, 
whatever his merits, was more prominent in the 
history of the time than either of the others, his- 
torians have had more to say about his death and 
his assassin. Brantome, who was an eye-witness 
of the assassination, gives many interesting details 
concerning the duke’s last moments, and also con- 
cerning his assassin, whom he had frequently seen 
at the duke’s table. • 




♦ * I* JxL 


■^1 


m 


H: 


i.'V 






* 






fffti '^’ 


'f* >'p 




■<> 


■' 'i" ■• 

|L.;' " ■ ■ ' 


ly 




i t 


I- 


c 








-i '♦ ij 


«» 


1^' 


;•■ / 


•if 


* ■» 


j -~j 


.; * *<• 




> . I 

Oj 


fe-- 




■ti 








V* V 

iL T 




► : 






.• 


', » 




s> 


^ 1 ^hl 

■*\<i •\'^W 


V -:» 




^ J ^4 • ,♦ 


Si 


i 


BJ^s Y' 






»''M 






'Tfl- 


n: 




i^V' 




•? 


Vf.r.-lf 


T V 


♦ ' r 






%* r ^ . 


« «•' 








,V> 4 .'r 




I i ' 


;T: 


I 


7i 


- '**•• • 

f. JL 






S 


[L*5 ^''..ferTjL' 


>• 




I 




* • / I ♦ 

^ jf j* \ 4 t ',< 






' s.- ^ 




* • 


►•. r •’ 


.>V: 


IKl^ 


1^4 


♦ • 


V! 


•'O. 




1 '..'w 

•'• v-^ 


/. ’ " 








; 




• •. 


- j 


• » >1 ••ji,'/ 

z-js* v:-^i 

/ u 













THE HOROSCOPE. 



U* i t T 


'Vs 












fji.' ' -’' 



w.' 




•»t 


**? 4* 

►I Jt ^ 

y »(' V . 

. c^' ■■ 

• ' '■" ■■■ ' p^S' 



« 4 



i; 




















• * - 


% • 


1 






py^,;,s-.' Al* ■ 

^’ ‘ ' si 

^ v* ^ 



' ^ ^ J. 

^*',>**- •*-•' 




.. 




* « 


V 


*.;• -*’ 



.■ - '' ■• " Vi- 


All 


-!l« tr 


ri-fit 






Mif'-i :M 





* 





LIST OF CHARACTERS. 


Period, 1559. 


FRANgois II., King of France. 

Mary Stuart, his queen. 

Catherine de Medicis, the queen-mother. 

FRANgois DE Lorraine, Due de Guise. 

Prince de Joinville, his son. 

Cardinal de Lorraine. 

Louis de Bourbon, Prince de CoNDf:. 

Prince de Montpensier. 

Jacqueline of Hungary, his wife. 

Due DE Montpensier. 

Prince de la Roche-sur-Yon. 

M. DE Mouciiy, grand inquisitor of the law. 

Marechal de Saint Andre. 

Charlotte de Saint Andre, his daughter, the king’s mistress. 
Jacques Baubigny de Mezieres, her page. 

Maitre Antoine Minard, president of the parliamentary council. 
Madame Minard, his wife. 

JuLiEN Fresne, clerk to President Minard. 

Poltrot de Mere, a Gascon adventurer. 

M. DE Chavigny, commander of the Archers of the Guard. 

M. DE Carvoysin, first equerry to the King. 

Brantome, Seigneur de Bourdeilles. 

Ronsard, 


Baif, 

Remi Belleau, 
PoNTUS DE ThIARD, 
Jodille, 


poets at the French court. 


XIV 


LIST OF CHARACTERS. 


Lanoue, maid to the queen mother. 

Admiral Gaspard de Coligny, 

Madame dk Coligny, his wife, 

Dandelot de Coligny, the admiral’s brother, 

Godefroi de Barri, Baron de Perigord, 

Seigneur de la Renaudie, uguenol 

M. Montesquieu, 

Anne Dubourg, councillor of parliament, 

Robert Stuart, his natural son. 

Patrick, an archer of the Scotch Guards, / friends of Robert 
Medard, ( Stuart. 



Host of the Red Horse Inn. 
A Soothsayer. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter Page 

1. The Fete du Landi 1 

II. In which is Explained why, when it Rains 
ON Saint Medard’s Day, it Rains for 
Forty Days 11 

III. At the Red Horse Inn 23 

IV. The Travellers 33 

V. The Triumphal Progress of President 

Minard 57 

VI. The Birthday of President Minard . . 61 

VII. President Minard’s Birthday Gift ... 78 

VIII. At the Sign of the Scotch Thistle . . 91 

IX. At the Foot of the New Tower .... 102 

X. The Siren ]27 

XL The Virtue of Mademoiselle de Saint 

Andre 135 

XII. The Salle des Met.vmorphoses .... 146 

XIII. The Toilet of Venus 154 

XIV. Two Scotchmen 164 

XV. What may Happen under a Bed .... 175 

XVI. The Queen-Mother and her Poets . . . 186 

XVII. Mars and Venus 195 

XVIII. In which Monsieur de Joinville is forced 

TO Relate his Misadventure .... 202 

XIX. A Tid-Bit 214 

XX. Tire-Laine and Tire-Soie 223 

XXL Like Mother, Like Son 237 


XVI 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter Page 

XXII. In which Monsieur de Conde Preaches 

Revolt to the King 258 

XXIII. In which the King Changes his Mind 
with Regard to Monsieur de Conde 
AND Councillor Anne Dubourg . . . 271 

XXIV. A Declaration of War 280 

XXV. The Son of the Condemned 290 

XXVI. His Own Master 296 

XXVII. What the Prince de Conde’s Head is 

Worth 307 


THE HOEOSCOPE 


I. 


THE FETE DU LANDI. 

One radiant spring morning about the middle of the 
month of June, in the year 1559, the Place Saint Gene- 
vieve was blocked by a crowd which might approxi- 
mately have been estimated at thirty or forty thousand 
persons. 

A man freshly arrived from the country and suddenly 
coming into the Hue Saint Jacques, where he could com- 
mand a view of this crowd, would have been greatly per- 
plexed to say for what purpose it had gathered in such 
numbers in this quarter of the capital. 

The weather was superb: they were not, therefore, 
about to bring forth the relics of Saint Genevieve, as in 
1551, to obtain a respite from the rains. 

It had rained two days before; certainly, then, they 
were not looking to the relics of Saint Genevieve for rain, 
as in 1556. 

They had not to deplore a disastrous battle, like that of 
Saint Quentin: hence they were not, as in 1557, march- 
ing in procession with the relics of Saint Genevieve in 
order to secure the protection of God. 

1 


2 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


It was clear, nevertheless, that this vast concourse of 
people, gathered on the site of the old ahbey, had assem- 
bled to celebrate some great event. 

But what event ? 

It was not of a religious nature, for although a few 
monks’ robes might be seen here and there in the crowd, 
yet the consecrated robes were not sufficiently numerous 
to lend a religious character to the fete. 

It was not a military gathering, for the soldiers in the 
crowd were few in number, and those few carried neither 
halberds nor muskets. 

It was not an aristocratic assemblage, for one failed to 
see emblazoned pennons fluttering overhead, or plumed 
helmets of noble lords. 

The predominant element of this motley throng, in 
which were intermingled gentlemen, thieves, monks, 
bourgeois, filles de joie^ old men, jugglers, sorcerers, 
bohemians, artisans, beggars, and venders of cerevisia; 
some on horses, others on mules, some on asses, others in 
coaches (coaches had been invented that very year) ; the 
most of them, too, coming and going, pushing, swarming, 
and struggling to reach the middle of the square, — the 
predominant element of this multitude, we say, was 
made up of students, students of the four nations, Scotch, 
English, French, and Italian. 

This, in fact, was the occasion: it was the first Mon- 
day after Saint Barnabas's Day, and all this crowd had 
assembled for the purpose of attending the Fete du Landi. 

But perhaps these three words, smacking of the speech 
of the sixteenth century, mean nothing to our readers. 
Let us therefore explain what the F§te du Landi was. 

Attention, dear readers ! we are about to expound a 
point in etymology, not unlike a member of the Academy 
of Inscriptions and Belles-Lettres. 


THE F^TE DU LANDI. 


3 


The Latin word indictum signifies a time and place 
appointed for an assembling of the people. 

The i was changed at first to the e finally became a. 
People said successively, instead of indicium^ Vindict^ 
Vendity then V audit, and, at last, landi. 

Hence this word signifies the time and place appointed 
for an assembly. 

Prom the days of Charlemagne, the Teutonic king who 
made his capital at Aix-la-Chapelle, the holy relics within 
the chapel were shown to pilgrims once a year. 

Charles the Bald transported these relics from Aix to 
Paris, and once a year they were exhibited to the people 
in the market-place near the Boulevard Saint Denis. 

The Bishop of Paris, in view of the increasing piety of 
the faithful, and considering the market-square to be not 
at all in keeping with its guests, fixed upon the Plain of 
Saint Denis for the Pete du Landi. 

Thither in procession the clergy of Paris conveyed the 
relics. The bishop went along to preach and to give his 
blessing to the people ; but it was with the blessings as 
with another’s goods or a neighbor’s fruit, — not every 
one had the right to distribute them : the clerics of Saint 
Denis claimed that they alone had the right to bless upon 
their own territory, and they denounced the bishop to 
the parliament of Paris as a usurper. 

The matter was obstinately argued and debated on 
both sides, with such eloquence that the parliament, not 
knowing in favor of which of the contestants to decide, 
decided unfavorably for both, and, in view of the trouble 
they were making, forbade the bishops on the one hand 
and the abbes on the other to set foot near the P6te du 
Landi. 

The contested privileges fell to the rector of the Uni- 
versity; to him was accorded the right to repair every 


4 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


year to the F^te du Landi, on the first Monday after Saint 
Barnabas’s Day, and there select the necessary parchment 
for all the colleges : the merchants convening at this fair 
were even forbidden to sell a single leaf before Monsieur 
Le Becteur had made his entire purchase. 

The rector’s excursion, which lasted several days, sug- 
gested to the students the idea of accompanying him; 
they begged permission. The permission was granted, 
and from that time forth the visit was made every year 
with due pomp and with all imaginable splendor. 

Kegents and students gathered on horseback in the 
Place Saint Genevieve, and from there marched in 
orderly array to the ground where the fair was held. 
The cavalcade arrived quietly enough at its destination; 
but, once arrived, its members found ready to join them 
all the bohemians and sorcerers of Paris (there were thirty 
thousand of them at the time) ; every girl and woman of 
doubtful character (no statistics have ever given their num- 
ber) ; and, dressed in boys’ clothes, all the demoiselles 
of the Val d’ Amour, the Chaud-Gaillard, and the Hue 
Froid-Mantel, — a veritable army, something like one of 
the great migrations of the fourth century, with the 
difference that these women, instead of being barbarians 
or savages, were only too civilized. 

Having reached the Plain of Saint Denis, every man 
halted, dismounted from his horse, ass, or mule, brushed 
the dust from his boots and hose, — from his shoes ai\d 
spatterdashes, if he had come on foot, — and mingled 
with the honorable company whose pitch he endeavored 
to reach or to raise. They lounged around, ate puddings, 
sausages, and pastry ; they drank to the continuance of 
the bloom on their ladies’ cheeks in frightful numbers of 
pots of white wine from the neighboring hills, — Saint 
Denis, La Briche, Epinay-lez-Saint-Denis, and Argen- 


THE E^ITE DU LANDL 


5 


teuil. Their brains reeled with love and drink : then, — 
“ the flagons began to pass, the meats followed, the 
fragments flew. ‘ Stop your brawling ! pour me Eousse 
without water; toss off this glass like a man, my friend;, 
white wine ! white ! pour, everybody, pour, in the devil’s 
name! a butler needs Briareus’ hundred hands to pour 
without tiring. My tongue peels ; again, comrade ! ’ ” 
They were acting the fifth chapter of “ Gargantua.” 

That was a fine age, — a merry age, rather, you will 
agree, — in which Rabelais, cure of Meudon, wrote “ Gar- 
gantua,” and Brantome, abbe of Bourdeille, wrote “ Les 
Dames Galantes.” 

Once drunk, they sang, kissed, quarrelled, babbled non- 
sense, abused the passers-by, — what the devil ! they must 
have sport 1 

With the first, then, who came to hand, they began a 
chaffing that ended in laughter, insults, or blows, accord- 
ing to the temperament of the victim. 

It required twenty decrees of parliament to remedy 
these disorders; and in the end they were forced to the 
expedient of removing the fair from the plain into the 
town of Saint Denis itself. 

In 1550 it was decreed that the students should 
attend the Fete du Landi only in deputations of twelve, 
including the regents from each of the four Colleges aux 
^Nations, as they were then called. 

But here is what then happened. 

The students not included in this number discarded the 
university garb, and, arrayed in short mantles, colored 
caps, and slashed hose, the sword, which had been for- 
bidden them, being added under cover of this species of 
Saturnalia to the dirk, which from time immemorial 
they had arrogated to themselves the right to carry, they 
repaired to Saint Denis by every possible route , in virtue 


6 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


of the saying, “ All roads lead to Eome ; ” and as, in their 
masquerading, they eluded the vigilance of their masters, 
the rioting became infinitely greater than before the issue 
of the ordinance designed to restrain it. 

Such was the state of affairs in 1559 ; and, witnessing 
the order with which the cortege set out, one would he a 
thousand leagues from imagining the irregularities to 
which they would abandon themselves when once they 
reached the fair. 

On this occasion, as usual, the cavalcade began to move 
methodically enough, and entered the broad Rue Saint 
Jacques without producing any great commotion; Avhile 
passing in front of the Chatelet it sent up one of those 
howls of malediction such as only Paris mobs know how 
to give; for half the members comprising this crowd cer- 
tainly knew the subterranean prisons of this structure 
otherwise than by hearsay. After this manifestation, 
which was at least a slight relief, it entered the Rue Saint 
Denis, 

Let us press on, dear reader, and engage a place in the 
ahbatial town of Saint Denis, that we may be present at 
an episode of the fete which is connected with the story 
we have undertaken to relate to you. 

The official f§te was entirely within the town, in the 
high street of the town even ; and it was within the town, 
and particularly in the high street, that the barbers, cere- 
visia-venders, upholsterers, haberdashers, linen-drapers, 
harness-makers, saddlers, rope- makers, spur-makers, 
leather-dealers, leather-dressers, tanners, shoemakersj 
wood-carvers, woollen-drapers, money-changers, gold- 
smiths, grocers, and publicans especially were established 
in the wooden booths which they had constructed two 
months in advance. 

Those who attended the fair at Beaucaire, twenty years 


THE FETE DU LANDI. 


7 


ago, or even the Fete des Loges at Saint Germain, ten 
years ago, can, by magnifying to gigantic proportions the 
scenes they beheld in those two localities, have some idea 
of the Pete du Landi. 

But those who are in the habit of attending regularly 
year after year this same Fete du Landi, which is still 
celebrated in our time in the sub-prefecture of the Seine, 
would by no means he able, from seeing what it is, to 
imagine what it was. 

In reality, instead of the sombre black habiliments 
which, amidst all festivities, sadden in spite of themselves 
even those who are least inclined to melancholy, as a re- 
minder of mourning, a sort of protestation of grief, the 
queen of this poor world, against gayety which seems only 
a usurper, this entire mass of people wore garments of 
dazzling hues, of gold and silver fabrics, embroideries, 
laces, bindings, feathers, braids, puffs, velvets, taffetas 
ribbed with gold and satins wrought with silver; the 
entire body glittered in the sun and seemed to flash back 
at him his most ardent rays. Never, in fact, had such 
splendor been displayed by all, from the highest ranks of 
society down to the lowest. Although, in the year 1543, 
King FranQois I., and later King Henri IV., promulgated 
twenty sumptuary laws, these laws have never been 
obeyed. 

The explanation of this unheard of splendor is very 
simple. The discovery of the new world by Columbus 
and Americus Vespucius, and the expeditions of Fer- 
nando Cortez and Pizarro to tlie famous realm of 
“Cathay,” indicated by Marco Polo, had flooded all 
Europe with such a quantity of coin that a writer of that 
century complains of the invasion of luxury and of the 
rise in the price of food, which, he says, had more than 
quadrupled in eighty years. 


8 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


But the picturesque side of the fete, however, was not 
to he found in Saint Denis itself. True, the decree of 
parliament had transported it into the town; but the 
decree of the populace, mightier in its way, had trans. 
ported it to the hank of the river. The fair, then, was 
held in Saint Denis, but the fete was at the water-side. 
Having nothing to buy, we will betake ourselves to the 
water-side below the Isle of Saint Denis, and, once there, 
we Avill look about and listen to what is going on. 

The cavalcade which we have seen start from the Place 
Saint Genevieve, proceed along the Bue Saint Jacques, 
greet the Chatelet with a howl, and file through the Rue 
Saint Denis, made its entry into the royal necropolis 
between eleven o’clock and half-past eleven; then, like 
sheep arrived at the pasture and turned loose, the stu- 
dents escaped from the regents and scattered abroad, 
some into the fields, others through the town, others 
along the bank of the Seine. 

For care-free hearts, — rare hearts, but they exist, 
nevertheless, — it was a delightful spectacle to see 
stretched at length here and there in the sun, on the high 
grassy bank, for a league away, the fresh students of 
twenty years, lying at the feet of beautiful girls with red 
satin bodices, pink satin cheeks, and white satin necks. 

The eyes of Boccaccio should have been able to pierce 
heaven’s azure curtain and gaze delightedly upon this 
gigantic “Decameron.” 

The first part of the day passed well enough; they 
were warm, and they drank ; they were hungry, and they 
ate ; they sat down, and were rested. Then the conversa- 
tions began to wax heated, the heads to grow hot. God 
knows the number of tankards, full, emptied, refilled, re- 
emptied, again refilled, and finally broken, whose frag- 
ments they hurled at one another. 


THE FETE DU LANDI. 


9 


About three o’clock, the river-bank, strewn with tank- 
ards and plates, some whole, others broken, brimming 
cups and empty bottles, with couples embracing and 
strolling over the turf, husbands taking strange women 
instead of their wives, wives taking their lovers instead 
of their husbands, — the river-bank, we repeat, but lately 
as green, fresh, and glistening as a village on the banks 
of the Arno, now resembled a Teniers landscape depicting 
a Flemish kermis. 

Suddenly, a formidable cry arose : — 

“Into the water! into the water! ” 

Every one sprang to his feet; the shouts were redoubled. 

“ Into the water with the heretic 1 Into the water 
with the Protestant! Into the water with the Huguenot! 
Into the water with the Baptist, the Colas cow! into the 
water ! into the water I into the water ! ” 

“ What is the matter ? ” cried a score, a hundred, a 
thousand voices. 

“He has blasphemed, — that is the matter! He has 
doubted Providence, — that is the matter! He says it will 
rain!” 

It was, perhaps, the last accusation, on the face of it 
the least damaging, that produced the greatest effect on 
the multitude. The multitude was enjoying itself, and 
would have been furious at having its enjoyment inter- 
rupted by a storm; the multitude was wearing its Sun- 
day clothes, and would have been maddened had its 
Sunday clothes been spoiled by rain. The explanation 
given, the vociferations began again louder than ever. 
The people pressed toward the place whence the cries 
came, and gradually the crowd became so dense at this 
point that the wind itself could with difficulty have 
penetrated it. 

Ill the centre of the throng, and almost stifled by it. 


10 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


stood a young man of twenty years, whom it was easy to 
recognize as a disguised student; with pallid cheeks, 
blanched lips but clinched fists, he appeared to be wait- 
ing until some of his assailants bolder than the rest, not 
content with shouting, should lay hands upon him, that 
he might beat down all who should encounter the two 
weapons of defence made by his doubled fists. 

He was a tall, fair young man, rather spare and rather 
delicate, resembling in appearance one of the worthy 
demoiselles dressed in boy’s clothes whom we have just 
mentioned; his drooping eyes bespoke the utmost candor, 
and could Humility have taken on a human countenance, 
she would have chosen no other type than the one pre- 
sented by the face of this youth. 

What crime then could he have committed that all this 
rabble should be at his heels, the whole pack in full cry, 
that all these arms should be outstretched ready to cast 
him into the flood? 


SAINT M^DARD’S day. 


11 


II. 

IN WHICH IS EXPLAINED WHY, WHEN IT RAINS ON 
SAINT MEDARD^S DAY, IT RAINS FOR FORTY DAYS. 

As accused in the preceding chapter, he was a Huguenot, 
and he had announced that it was about to rain. 

This is the way the affair began; it was a very simple 
matter, as you will see. 

The fair young man, who appeared to be expecting a 
friend, was walking along tlie river. From time to time 
he stopped, he looked at the water; then, when he had 
looked at the water long enough, he looked at the grass ; 
when he had looked at the grass long enough, he raised 
his eyes and looked at the sky. 

One would certainly pronounce it a monotonous pas- 
time, but it must be admitted that it was inoffensive. 
However, certain people, who were celebrating the FSte 
du Landi in their own fashion, took it ill that this young 
man should celebrate it in his. In fact, during the last 
half hour, several bourgeois, with a sprinkling of stu- 
dents and artisans, had shown themselves visibly irritated 
by the young man’s triple contemplation; and they were 
the more irritated that the youth seemed to take not the 
slightest notice of them. 

“ Ah ! ” said a woman’s voice, “ I am not curious, but 
I should like very much to know why that young man is 
so bent upon contemplating the water, the earth, and the 
sky, one after the other.” 


12 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


"Do you care to know, Perrette of my heart?” in- 
quired a young bourgeois who was gallantly drinking 
wine from the lady’s glass and love from her eyes. 

“ Yes, Landry, and I will give a smacking kiss to the 
one that tells me.” 

" Ah ! Perrette, for so sweet a recompense, I wish you 
had set a harder task.” 

“ I shall he content with that.” 

“ Will you give me a pledge ? ” 

“ There is my hand. ” 

The bourgeois kissed the girl’s hand, and rising said, — 

“ You shall soon know.” 

Thereupon the one whom the girl called Landry 
turned away, and, approaching the silent and solitary 
observer, he said : — 

“ Hey, there ! young man, may I ask, without seeming 
to presume, why you are looking at the grass like that ? 
Have you lost anything ? ” 

The young man, perceiving that he was the person 
addressed, turned around, politely removed his hat, and 
with great courtesy answered his interlocutor : — 

“ You mistake, monsieur, I was not looking at the 
grass; I was looking at the river.” 

And, having pronounced these few words, he turned 
away. Master Landry was somewhat disconcerted ; he had 
not expected so civil a reply. Such civility impressed 
him. He returned to the company scratching his ear. 

“ Well ? ” demanded Perrette. 

“ Well, we were deceived,” said Landry, pitifully 
enough: "he was not looking at the grass.” 

" What was he looking at, then ? ” 

“ At the river.” 

A shout of laughter rose in the face of the messenger, 
who felt the blush of shame rise to his cheek. 


SAINT MJ^DAKD’S DAY. 13 

“ And you did not ask why he was looking at the 
river? ” inquired Perrette. 

“No,” returned Landry ; “he was so civil I thought 
it would be indiscreet to put a second question to 
him.” 

“ Two kisses to the one who will go and ask him why 
he is staring at the river, ” said Perrette. 

Three or four lovers rose. 

But Landry signified that, as he had undertaken the 
matter, he was the one to carry it out. 

The justice of his claim was admitted. 

He returned to the blonde youth, and for the second 
time he asked, — 

“ Hey, there ! young man, why do you stare at the 
river like that ? ” 

The same by-play was repeated. The young man 
turned, removed his hat, and, still civil, replied to his 
questioner, — 

“ Excuse me, monsieur, I am not staring at the river ; 
I am watching the sky.” 

And with these words the young man bowed and 
turned away. 

But Landry, for the moment as disconcerted by this 
reply as he had been by the former, believing his honor 
to be involved, and hearing in the distance his comrades^ 
shouts of laughter, took courage, plucked the student by 
the cloak, and insisted, — 

“ Then, young man, will you be kind enough to tell 
me why you are watching the sky ? ” 

“ Monsieur, ” returned the young man, “ will you do 
me the favor to say why you ask?” 

“ Well, I will be frank with you, young man.” 

“ You will oblige me, monsieur.” 

“ I ask you, monsieur, because my companions are so 


14 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


annoyed at your standing here like a post for the last 
hour, and executing the same manoeuvres.” 

“ Monsieur, ” replied the student, “ I remain here be- 
cause I am waiting for a friend ; I stand up because by 
standing I shall be able to see him coming in the dis- 
tance. Then, because he does not come, and I am tired 
of waiting for him, and because the ennui that I suffer 
compels me to move about, I look at the ground so as 
not to cut my shoes on the broken tankards with which 
the grass is strewn ; then I look out upon the river as a 
change from looking down at the ground ; then, finally, 
I look up at the sky as a relief from looking at the 
river.” 

The bourgeois, instead of accepting this explanation 
for what it was, — that is, for the pure and simple truth, — 
believed that he was being hoaxed, and he turned as red 
as the poppies that were to be seen in the distance blos- 
soming in the fields of clover and corn. 

“ And do you intend, young man, ” persisted the bour- 
geois, .settling himself on his left hip with an exasperat- 
ing air and squaring back his shoulders, “ do you in- 
tend to devote yourself much longer to this unpleasant 
occupation ? ” 

“ I had intended to continue it until my friend came, 
monsieur; but — ” 

The youth glanced up at the sky. 

“ I do not think I shall be able to await his pleasure, ” 
he concluded. 

“ And why will you not wait 1 ” 

“ Because there is going to be such a rain-storm, mon- 
sieur, that in a quarter of an hour from now, neither you, 
nor I, nor any one else will be able to remain out of 
doors. ” 

“ It is going to rain, do you say *? ” interrogated the 


SAINT MJ^DARD’s DAY. 


15 


bourgeois, with the expression of a man who thinks he is 
laughed at. 

“It will pour, monsieur!” tranquilly returned the 
youth. 

“ You are undoubtedly joking, young man.” 

“ I assure you I have not the least idea of doing so, 
monsieur.” 

“ Then you are making game of me, ” suggested the 
exasperated bourgeois. 

“ Monsieur, I give you my word that I have no such 
thought.” 

“ Then why do you tell me that it is going to rain, 
when the weather is magnificent?” roared Landry, be- 
coming more and more exasperated. 

“ I say it will rain, for three reasons.” 

“ Will you give me your three reasons? ” 

“ Certainly, if it will oblige you.” 

“ It will oblige me.” 

The young man politely bowed, and with a manner 
that seemed to say, “You are so amiable, monsieur, that 
I can refuse you nothing.” 

“ I am waiting for your three reasons, ” said Landry, 
clinching his fists and grinding his teeth. 

“ The first, monsieur,” said the youth, “ is that, as it 
did not rain yesterday, there is good reason for its raining 
to-day.” 

“You are quizzing me, monsieur.” 

“By no means. ” 

“ Then give me the second.” 

“ The second is that the sky was overcast all the night, 
all the morning, and is still so at this moment.” 

“ Because the weather is cloudy is no certainty of rain, 
you know.” 

“ There is likelihood of it, at least.” 


16 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ Let me have your third reason ; hut I warn you that 
if it is not better than the first two, I shall lose my 
temper.” 

“ Should you lose your temper, monsieur, you would 
be displaying a petty disposition.” 

“ Ah ! do you tell me that I have a petty dis- 
position 1 ” 

“ Monsieur, I spoke of a possibility, not of a proba- 
bility.” 

“ The third reason, monsieur, — the third reason ? ” 

The young man extended his hand. 

“ The third reason for its raining, monsieur, is that it 
is raining.” 

“ Do you pretend that it is raining 1 ” 

“ I do not pretend it, — I affirm the fact. ” 

“ This is intolerable ! ” declared the bourgeois, quite 
beside himself. 

“ It will presently he much more so, ” remarked the 
young man. 

“ And do you think I will stand it ? ” cried the bour- 
geois, scarlet with rage. 

“ I do not think you will stand it any longer than I, ” 
returned the student; “and if I were going to give you 
advice, it would be to do what I am about to do, — that 
is, look for shelter.” 

“ Ah ! this is too much ! ” roared the bourgeois, turn- 
ing toward his associates. 

Then, addressing himself to all within range of his 
voice, he shouted, — 

“ Come here, all of you! Come on, everybody! ” 

The bourgeois seemed so enraged, that every one came 
running at his call. 

“ What is the matter ? ” inquired the women, in a shrill 
key. 


SAINT M^DARD’S day. 17 

" What is the matter ? ” demanded the men’s hoarse 
voices. 

“ What is the matter ? ” retorted Landry, sensible of 
support. “ Incredible things. ” 

“What?” 

“ Merely that monsieur would have us see the stars in 
broad daylight.” 

“I beg pardon, monsieur,” rejoined the student, with 
great suavity ; “ on the contrary, I have informed you 
that the weather is extremely cloudy.” 

“ A figure of speech, master student, ” answered Landry. 
“ Do you understand ? — a figure of speech I ” 

“ In that case, your figure is bad. ” 

“ Do you say that I have a bad figure ? ” yelled Lan- 
dry, who, deafened by the blood throbbing in his ears, 
misunderstood, or did not wish to understand. “Ah! 
this is too much, messieurs; you see for yourselves that 
this knave takes us for fools.” 

“ Takes you for a fool, ” said a voice, — “ that is quite 
possible.” 

“You and me and all of us; it is a poor jester that 
amuses himself with brewing mischief and wishing it may 
rain to spite us.” 

“ Monsieur, I take my oath that I do not wish it to 
rain ; for, if it rains, I shall get as wet as you, and even 
wetter, since I am three or four inches taller than 
you.” 

“ Is that as much as to call me a runt ? ” 

“ I used no such term, monsieur.” 

“ A dwarf ? ” 

“ That would be a gratuitous insult. You are nearly 
five feet high, monsieur.” 

“ I don’t know what keeps me from throwing you into 
the water! ” shrieked Landry. 

2 


f 


18 


THE HOKOSCOPE. 


Ah ! yes, into the water with him ! ” cried several 
voices. 

“ Should yon throw me into the water, monsieur, ” 
said the young man, with his usual politeness, “ you 
would not get any the less wet.” 

As this response proved that he alone possessed more 
wit than the rest together, the rest turned against Idm. 
One tall fellow approached, and, half hanteringly, half 
threateningly, said, — 

“ Tell us, rascal, why dost thou say it is now raining ? ” 

“ Because I felt the drops.” 

“ Eainirig in drops, ” cried Landry, “ is not a down- 
pour, and he said it would pour.” 

“ Art thou, then, in league with some astrologer ? ” 
said the tall fellow. 

“ I am in league with no one, monsieur,” answered the 
young man, who was growing angry ; “ not even with 
you, who ‘ thee and thou ’ me.” 

“ Into the water ! into the water ! ” cried several 
voices. 

And then it was that the student, conscious of the 
gathering storm, doubled his fists and prepared for the 
encounter. The circle began to close in upon him. 

“ Stop! ” exclaimed a new-comer. “ It is Medard! ” 

“ Who is IVIedard ? ” demanded several voices. 

“ He is the saint whose fete falls on to-day, ” said a 
wag. 

“Well,” cried the one who had recognized the young 
man, “ this one is no saint, — he is a heretic.” 

“ A heretic ! ” shouted the crowd ; “ into the water 
with the heretic! into the water with the Baptist! into 
the water wuth.the Eeformer ! into the water -with the 
Huguenot ! ” 

And all the voices joined in chorus, — 


SAINT M^DARD’s day. 


19 


“ Into the water ! into the water ! into the water ! ” 

These were the cries that had disturbed the fete just 
as we were well under way to describe it. 

But at that very moment, as if Providence had meant 
to send the youth the help of which he stood in such dire 
need, the friend whom he was expecting arrived, — a hand- 
some cavalier of twenty-two or twenty-three years, whose 
high-bred air bespoke the gentleman, and whose appear- 
ance betrayed the foreigner; he came at a run, and, 
thrusting aside the crowd, he found himself within 
twenty paces of his friend just as the latter, seized before, 
behind, by the feet and by the head, was struggling with 
all his might. 

“ Defend yourself, Medard ! ” cried the new-comer. 
“ Defend yourself ! ” 

“ It really is Medard, you see ! ” cried the one who 
had called him by this name. 

And as if to bear the name were a crime, the whole 
mob shouted, — 

“ Yes, it is Medard ! it is Medard ! Into the water 
with Medard ! into the water with the heretic ! into the 
water with the Huguenot! ” 

What audacity for a heretic to bear the name of so 
great a saint ! ” screamed Perrette. 

“ Into the water with the sacrilegious wretch 1 ” 

And those who had seized poor Medard dragged him 
toward the bank. 

“ Help, Robert! ” cried the youth, feeling that he was 
no match for such numbers, and that death was to be the 
end of the joke. 

“ Into the water with the ruffian ! ” shrieked the 
women, as mad in hate as in love. 

“ Defend yourself, Medard ! ” again cried the stranger, 
drawing his sword. “ Defend yourself; I am coming ! ” 


20 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


And, striking out right and left with the flat of his 
sword, he swept down the slope like an avalanche. But 
he reached a point where the crowd was so dense that, 
whatever desire its individuals might have had to dis- 
perse, their efforts were unavailing; they took his blows 
and howled with pain, but they did not scatter. After 
howling with pain, they howled with rage. 

The new-comer, who from his foreign accent could be 
recognized as a Scotchman, kept on raining blows, hut 
without advancing; or he advanced so little that it was 
easy to see that his friend would he in the water before 
he could reach his side. About twenty peasants and five 
or six boatmen were in the fray. In vain poor Medard 
clutched with his hands, struck out with his feet, and 
hit with his teeth; every second brought him nearer to 
the brink. 

The Scotchman no longer heard anything hut his calls, 
and they were perceptibly nearing the water’s edge. He 
himself ceased calling, — he roared ; and with every roar 
the broad side of his blade or the butt of his sword fell 
upon some head. Suddenly the shouts redoubled ; then 
followed silence ; then was heard the splash of a heavy 
body striking the water. 

“ Ah ! ruffians ! murderers ! assassins ! ” screamed the 
young man, as he strove to make headway toward the 
river, to save his friend or to die with him. 

But it was impossible. As well might he have tried 
to overturn a wall of granite as this living wall. He re- 
coiled, worn out, grinding his teeth, his lips foaming and 
his forehead streaming with perspiration. He retreated 
to the brow of the slope to see if, when above the crowd, 
he could not catch a glimpse of poor Medard’s head reap- 
pearing on the surface of the water. ‘ And as he stood 
there, on the crest of the slope, leaning on his sword, 


SAINT M^DARD’s day. 


21 


and saw nothing reappear, he bent his gaze upon the 
furious mob, and regarded the human pack with loathing. 

Thus, standing quite apart, pale and in black garments, 
he looked like the destroying angel, resting for a moment 
with folded wings. But, the moment past, the rage that 
was seething within his breast, like lava in a volcano, 
mounted hot to his lips. 

“ You are ruffians; you are assassins; you are infamous 
wretches all! Forty to one, you have drowned, murdered, 
a poor lad who had done you no harm. I challenge you 
all ! There are forty of you; come on, and I will kill the 
whole forty, one after the other, — curs that you are ! ” 

The peasants, bourgeois, and students to whom this 
invitation to meet Death was addressed, did not appear 
to care to risk the chances of a side-arm combat with a 
man that handled the sword so masterfully. Seeing this, 
the Scotchman disdainfully returned his sword to its 
sheath. 

“ You are as craven as you are vile, cowardly 
knaves ! ” continued he, with a sweeping gesture above 
their heads, “ but I will avenge this death on others less 
despicable; as for you, you are not worthy a gentle- 
man’s sword. Away, then, clowns and poltroons ! and 
may the rain and hail destroy your vineyards, and lodge 
your grain, and pour down upon your fields as many days 
as you have employed men to slay one I ” 

But, as if justice demanded that this murder should he 
avenged, he drew from his belt a great pistol, and, firing 
upon the crowd without taking aim, he cried, — 

“ God speed the hall ! ” 

There was a report, the ball whistled, and one of the 
men who had just .cast Medard into the water uttered a 
cry, clapped his hand to his breast, staggered, and fell 
mortally wounded. 


22 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ And now, adieu ! ” said he. “ You shall hear from 
me again. My name is Eohert Stuart.” 

As he finished speaking, the clouds, heaped in the sky 
since the day before, suddenly burst, and as the unfortu- 
nate Medard had predicted, there fell one of those tor- 
rent-like rains that never come in the season of rains. 

The young man walked slowly away. 

The peasants would certainly have fallen upon him, 
seeing his maledictions produce immediate effect, had not 
the roaring of thunder, which seemed to them to he 
trumpeting the last day, the water falling in torrents, 
and the blinding lightning, engaged their attention in- 
finitely more than thoughts of revenge; and it became at 
once a case of each for himself. 

In a short time the river-bank, recently thronged with 
from five thousand to six thousand people, was as de- 
serted as the shores of one of the streams in the New 
World which had so lately been discovered by the 
Genoese navigator. 

It rained forty days without ceasing. 

And this is why, — so at least we think, dear reader, — 
when it rains on Saint Medard ’s Day, it rains for forty 
days. 


O 


AT THE RED HORSE INN. 


23 


III. 

AT THE RED HORSE INN. 

We will not undertake to tell our readers what became 
of the fifty or sixty thousand people who assisted at the 
Fete du Landi, and who, taken unawares by this modern 
deluge, sought shelter in alcoves, houses, taverns, and 
even in the royal sanctuary. 

At this period there were barely five or six inns in 
the town of Saint Denis, which were almost instantly 
so overcrowded that some of the people began to leave 
them more hastily than they had entered, preferring to 
be drowned by the rain rather than suffocated by the 
heat. 

The only ifin that remained comparatively empty — 
and this distinction it owed to its isolation — was the 
Red Horse Inn, situated on the highway, within range 
of a gun-shot or so from the town of Saint Denis. 

For the time being, three persons were occupying the 
great smoke-blackened room that was pretentiously called 
the guest hall, and which — save for the kitchen and a 
loft overhead serving as a sleeping-room for belated mule- 
teers and cattle-dealers — comprised in itself alone the 
entire inn. It was something like an enormous cart- 
house, lighted by the door, which reached almost to the 
roof; the ceiling was made on the model of the ark, 
with visible timbers following the shape of the roof. 

As in the ark, a goodly number of animals — dogs, 
cats, hens, and ducks — swarmed over the floor, and 
instead of the raven that came back with empty beak. 


24 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


and the dove that brought the olive branch, swallows 
were seen flitting in and out among the blackened joists 
by day, and bats by night. As for the furniture of this 
hall, it was limited to the articles indispensable to an 
inn, — that is, to rickety tables, crippled chairs, and 
wabbling stools. 

The three persons occupying the room were the inn- 
keeper, his wife, and a wayfarer of thirty or thirty-five 
years of age. 

Let us describe the grouping of these three people, 
and tell how they were engaged. 

The inn-keeper, whom in his character of master of 
the house we mention first, was doing nothing; he sat 
before the door, astride upon a straw -bottomed chair, 
with his chin propped on its back, and grumbled at the 
foul weather. 

The inn-keeper’s wife, sitting a little behind her 
husband, in such a position, however, as to catch the 
light, was plying her spinning-wheel, moistening at her 
lips the thread she was twisting between her fingers and 
drawing from the hemp of her distaff. 

The wayfarer of thirty or thirty-five years, instead of 
seeking the light, sat, on the contrary, in the remotest 
corner of the room, with his hack turned to the door, 
and appeared to he a customer, judging from the tankard 
and cup before him. 

Yet his thoughts did not seem to he fixed upon his ' 
drink; with his elbow on the table and his head in his 
hand, he was lost in re very. 

“ Beastly weather ! ” growled the host. 

‘‘Do you find fault with it ? ” said his wife. “You 
were the one that wanted it. ” 

“So I did,” admitted the inn-keeper; “hut I was 
wrong. ” 


AT THE RED HORSE INN. 


25 


“ Then don’t complain.” 

At this admonition, containing small comfort hut 
full of logic, the inn-keeper, heaving a sigh, bowed his 
head and was silent. 

The silence endured about ten minutes; then the 
inn-keeper raised his head and growled again, — 

“ Beastly weather ! ” 

“ You have already said that,” remarked his wife. 

“ Well, I say it again, then.” 

“ It will not mend the matter, if you keep on saying 
it till night, will it 1 ” 

“ True ; but it does me some little good to storm at 
the thunder, rain, and hail.” 

“Why do you not rail at Providence, and he done 
with it ? ” 

“ If I thought that Providence sent such weather — ” 

The inn-keeper hesitated. 

“ You would rail at Providence. Come, confess, 
now! ” 

“No; because — ” 

“ Because what? ” 

“Because I am a good Christian, instead of a dog of 
a heretic.” 

At the words, “ a dog of a heretic,” the traveller, who 
had been caught in the Bed Horse Inn like a cat in a 
trap, came out of his re very, raised his head, and struck 
such a blow on the table with his pewter cup that the 
tankard began to dance and the cup was dented. 

“Here, here!” cried the inn-keeper, bouncing on 
his chair like the tankard on the table, supposing that 
his guest was summoning him; “coming, my young 
master ! ” 

The young man swung his chair around on one of its 
hind legs, and, swinging with it, he came face to face 


26 


THE HOKOSCOPE. 


with his host, who was standing before him; after scan- 
ning him from head to foot, without raising his voice, 
but with lowering brow, he said, — 

“ Was it you that just said, ‘ dog of a heretic ’ ? ” 

“Yes, my young master,” stammered the tavern- 
keeper, with reddening face. 

“ Well, if it was you, master knave,” replied the 
guest, “ you are but an ill-bred ass, and deserve to have 
your ears cropped.” 

“Pardon, your honor; I did not know that you were 
of the reformed religion,” said the inn-keeper, trembling 
in every limb. 

“ Which should prove to you, scamp that you are,” 
continued the Huguenot, without raising his voice so 
much as a half tone, “ that an inn-keeper, who deals 
with everybody, ought to keep his tongue in his head ; 
for it is quite possible that while he thinks he has to 
do with a dog of a Catholic he is dealing with a respect- 
able follower of Luther and Calvin.” 

And, as he said the last words, the gentleman raised 
his felt hat. The inn-keeper did likewise. The gentle- 
man shrugged his shoulders. 

“ Come,” said he, “ another measure of wine, and do 
not let me hear you utter the word ‘ heretic ’ again, or I 
will tap your old wine-cask of a stomach; do you hear, 
my friend 1 ” 

The inn-keeper backed away, and took himself off to 
the kitchen to get the wine. 

The gentleman, meanwhile, described a half- turn to 
the right with his stool, and resumed his position with 
his back to the door, his face again being in the shadow 
when the landlord returned to set his small measure of 
wine before him. 

Then the uncommunicative gentleman held out his 


AT THE EED HOESE INN. 


27 


battered drinking-cup to be exchanged for a new one. 
The inn-keeper, without breathing a word, rolled his 
eyes and nodded his head, as much as to say: “The 
devil ! From all appearances, when that fellow smites, 
he smites hard ; ” and he returned with a sound glass for 
the disciple of Calvin. 

“Very good,’’ said the latter; “this is the sort of 
inn-keeper I like.” 

The host bestowed his most agreeable smile upon the 
gentleman, and went away to resume his station in the 
foreground. 

“Well,” inquired his wife, who, on account of the 
restraint which the Protestant had placed on his voice, 
had not overheard a word of what was passing between 
her husband and his guest, “ what did the young 
gentleman have to say to you ? ” 

“ What did he say ? ” 

“ Yes, that is what I asked.” 

“Very flattering things,” answered the other: “that 
my wine was excellent, that my inn was marvellously 
neat, and that he was surprised that such a house should 
not have more custom.” 

“ And what did you reply ? ” 

“ That this beastly weather was our ruin.” 

Just as our friend was indirectly reviling Providence 
for the third time. Providence, as if to give him the 
lie, caused two new guests to arrive at the same moment, 
although from opposite directions, — one on foot, the 
other on horseback. The pedestrian, who appeared to 
be a knight of fortune, was advancing from the left, — 
that is, from Paris; the rider, who wore a page’s cos- 
tume, was approaching from the right, — that is, by the 
Flanders road. 

But, just as he was clearing the threshold of the inn. 


28 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


a foot of the pedestrian was stepped on by the horse. 
The pedestrian discharged an oath and turned pale. 
The mere oath announced the speaker’s part of the 
country. 

“ Ah ! cajp de Diou ! ” he cried. 

The rider, like an accomplished horseman, executed a 
half- turn to the left with his horse, lifting him to his 
hind feet, and, springing to the ground before the 
animaTs fore feet had struck the earth, he rushed 
toward the injured man, and in tones of earnest solici- 
tude exclaimed, — 

“ Oh, captain, I offer you every apology! ” 

“ Do you know, master page,” said the Gascon, “ that 
you have nearly crushed me ? ” 

“Believe me, captain, I am excessively chagrined.” 

“Well, console yourself, young gentleman,” returned 
the captain, as he made a. wry face, showing that he had 
not entirely mastered his pain; “ console yourself; with- 
out suspecting it, you have just done me an enormous 
service, and I really do not know how to thank you.” 

“A service ? ” 

“ An enormous one ! ” repeated the Gascon. 

“ Mon Dieu / in what way ? ” demanded the page, 
who could see from the nervous twitching of the 
speaker’s face that he was exercising great self-control 
to refrain from swearing instead of smiling. 

“ It is very simple,” returned the captain; “ there are 
but two things in the world that vex me beyond endur- 
ance: they are old women and new boots; well, ever 
since morning I have been encumbered with a pair of 
new boots, in which I have had to walk from Paris. I 
was casting about for an expeditious means of breaking 
them in, and here have you, to your undying glory, 
wrought the miracle in a twinkling. I pray you, then, 


AT THE KED HORSE INN. 29 

in return for the favor, on every occasion to command 
my person, which declares itself your humble servant.” 

“Monsieur,” said the page, bowing, " you are a man 
of spirit, which does not surprise me, after hearing the 
oath with which you greeted me. You are courteous; 
nor does that surprise me, considering you are a gentle- 
man: I accept all that you offer, placing myself, in 
turn, quite at your service.” 

“ I presume you are intending to stop at this inn ? ” 

“ Yes, monsieur, for a short time,” replied the youth, 
tying his horse to a ring fastened in the wall for that 
purpose, — a proceeding which the inn-keeper watched, 
his eyes beaming with joy. 

“And I, also,” said the captain. “Come, you lout 
of a landlord, set out some Avine, and of the best! ” 

“ Immediately, messeigneurs ! ” cried the inn-keeper, 
hastening to his kitchen, — “ immediately ! ” 

Five seconds later, he returned with two tankards and 
two glasses, which he placed on a table near the one at 
which the first gentleman sat. 

“ Monsieur host,” demanded the youthful page, in 
accents as gentle as a woman’s, “ has your inn a room 
where a young gentlewoman can rest for an hour or 
two ? ” 

“We have only this room,” returned the inn-keeper. 

“Ah, diable! that is a pity.” 

“ You are expecting your wife, my galliard ? ” mys- 
teriously inquired the captain, seizing the end of his 
mustache with his tongue, and beginning to nibble 
at it. 

“ She is not a wife for me, captain,” gravely responded 
the youth; “she is the daughter of my noble master, 
Monsieur le Marechal de Saint Andre.” 

“ Haii ! grand double et triple Diou vivant ! Then 


30 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


you are in the service of the illustrious Marechal de 
Saint Andre 1 ” 

“ I have that honor, monsieur.” 

“ And do you think that the marechal will descend 
here and creep into this kennel ? Do you imagine that, 
my young page ? Come, now ! ” protested the captain. 

“He must do so; for the last fifteen days Monsieur 
le Marechal has been ill at the Chateau de Villers- 
Cotterets, and, as it was impossible for him to return 
on horseback to Paris, — whither he goes to be present 
at the tournament that takes place on the twenty -ninth, 
on the occasion of the marriage of King Philip II. 
with the Princess Elizabeth, and that of the Princess 
Marguerite with the Duke Emmanuel Philibert of 
Savoy, — Monsieur de Guise, whose chateau is near the 
Chateau de Villers-Cotterets — ” 

“ Monsieur de Guise has a chateau in the neighbor- 
hood of Villers-Cotterets ? ” interposed the captain, de- 
sirous of showing that he had knowledge of the court; 
“ and where do you place this chateau, young man? ” 

“ At Kanteuil-le-Haudouin, captain; it is a purchase 
which he has recently made that he might be on the 
king’s route when the king goes to and from Villers- 
Cotterets. ” 

“ Ah ! ah! well played, that, it seems to me! ” 

“ Oh,” smilingly remarked the page, “ that player 
does not lack skill.” 

“ Nor a game,” said the captain. 

“ As I was saying,” resumed the page, “ Monsieur de 
Guise brought his own coach for the marechal , and they 
are coming on at a walking gait; but, notwithstanding 
the coach is so easy and the horses are proceeding to 
Gonesse so slowly. Monsieur le Marechal experiences 
great fatigue, and Mademoiselle Charlotte de Saint 


AT THE RED HORSE INN. 31 

Andre has sent me ahead to find an inn where her 
father can get a little rest.” 

Hearing these words spoken at the table next his 
own, the first gentleman , who had waxed so wroth when 
the Huguenots were insulted, pricked up his ears and 
appeared to take the keenest interest in the conversation. 

“ Per la crux Diou / ” ejaculated the Gascon. “ I 
swear, young man, that if I knew of any room within 
two leagues around fit to receive the two generals, I 
would yield to no one, not even to my own father, the 
honor of conducting them thither; but, unfortunately,” 
he added, “ I know of none.” 

The Huguenot gentleman made a gesture which might 
have been construed as a sign of contempt. This move- 
ment drew the captain’s attention to him. 

“ Ah ! ah ! ” he drawled. 

And, rising, he bowed to the Huguenot with studied 
courtesy; this done, he turned his attention to the page. 
The Huguenot rose, as the Gascon had done, bowed 
politely but grimly, and turned his attention to the 
wall. The captain poured wine for the page, — who 
took up his glass before it was a third full, — then he 
resumed : — 

“ You say, young man, that you are in the service of 
the illustrious Marechal de Saint Andre, the hero of 
Cerisoles and of Kenty. I was at the siege of Boulogne, 
young man, and witnessed his efforts to enter the town. 
Ah ! per ma fe ! there was a man that did not steal the 
title of ‘ marechal.’ ” 

Then he suddenly paused, and seemed to reflect. 

“ Cap de Diou! ” he exclaimed; “now I have it! I 
am from Gascony ; I have abandoned the chateau of my 
ancestors to serve some prince of renown or illustrious 
leader. Young man, is there not a place in the house- 


32 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


hold of the Marechal de Saint Andre that a brave officer 
like me could with propriety fill? I will not stand 
upon trifles in the matter of salary, and, provided T am 
given no old women to amuse or new boots to break in, 

I will endeavor to perform to my master’s satisfaction 
whatever duty it may please him to assign me.” 

“ Ah! captain,” said the page, “ I am truly very sorry, 
but, unfortunately, Monsieur le Marechal’s household 
is complete, and I doubt whether, should he wish to do 
so, he could accept your obliging offer.” 

“ Morhleu ! so much the worse for him, for I can 
boast myself a treasure to my employers. Now, grant 
that I have said nothing, and let us drink. ” 

The young page had already raised his glass for 
the captain’s gratification, when, suddenly assuming a 
listening attitude, he set the glass down again upon the 
table. ■ 

“Your pardon, captain,” said he, “but I hear the 
sound of a coach, and, as coaches are somewhat rare, I 
think T can safely assume that it belongs to the Due de 
Guise; with your permission, I will leave you a few 
moments. ” 

“Do so, my young friend; do so,” said the captain 
heartily; “duty first of all.” 

The permission sought by the page was asked from 
simple courtesy, for, even before the captain responded, 
he had hastily rushed out of the inn, and disappeared at' 
a bend of the road. 


THE TKAVELLERS. 


33 


IV. 

THE TRAVELLERS. 

The captain took advantage of this interval to reflect, 
and, while reflecting, to drink up the wine he had be- 
fore him. The first tankard of wine emptied, he called 
for another. Then, as if he lacked food for reflection, 
or that brain-work could be accomplished only by painful 
effort by reason of his infrequent indulgence in the exer- 
cise, the captain turned again to the Huguenot, saluted 
him with the exaggerated politeness that he had already 
displayed, and said, — 

“ Per ma fe, monsieur, it seems to me that I recog- 
nize a compatriot.” 

“You are deceived, captain,” answered the one 
appealed to; “for, if I mistake not, you are from 
Gascony; I am from Angoumois.” 

“ All ! you are from Angoumois ! ” cried the captain , 
with an expression of admiring surprise, — “from 
Angoumois! Well! well! well!” 

“Yes, captain; does it please you?” inquired the 
Huguenot. 

“ I should think so ! permit me to congratulate you 
You have a magnificent, a fertile country, coursed by 
beautiful rivers; your men are full of courage, — his 
late Majesty, Frangois T., for instance; your women 
sparkle with wit, — Madame Marguerite de Navarre, 
for example. In short, I confess, monsieur, that were 
I not of Gascony, I would be of Angoumois.” 

3 


34 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ Keally, you do my poor province too much honor, 
monsieur,” returned the gentleman from Angoumois. 
“ I know not how to thank you. ” 

“ Oh, nothing is easier, monsieur, — merely to show 
me the slight return of taking my brutal frankness in 
good part! Do me the honor to touch my glass to the 
glory and prosperity of your compatriots.” 

“ With the greatest pleasure, captain,” responded the 
Huguenot, as he transferred his tankard and glass to a 
corner of the table at which the Gascon was seated, and 
of which the page’s departure had left him in sole 
possession. 

After the health drunk to the glory of the sons of 
Angoumois, the Huguenot gentleman, not to be wanting 
in courtesy, proposed the same toast to the prosperity 
and glory of the sons of Gascony. • 

Then, the courtesy shown him by the other having 
been paid in kind, the gentleman from Angoumois 
picked up his tankard and glass, in readiness to return 
to his own place. 

“Oh, monsieur,” said the Gascon, “this would be 
interrupting our acquaintance too soon ! Pray do me the 
favor to finish your pot of wine at this table.” 

“ I was afraid of causing you inconvenience, mon- 
sieur,” returned the Huguenot, politely but coldly. 

“Causing me inconvenience? Never! Besides, 
monsieur, in my opinion the best and most perfect 
friendships begin at the table. A pot of wine rarely 
yields less than three glassfuls, does it ? ” 

“Assuredly, monsieur, very rarely,” replied the 
Huguenot, visibly at a loss to know what his inter- 
locutor meant. 

“ Well, let us propose a toast for each glass. Do you 
agree to a health for each ? ” 


THE TRAVELLERS. 


35 


“A health for each, monsieur.” 

When two persons join heartily in drinking the 
health of three men, it is because they have similar dis- 
positions, opinions, and principles.” 

“ There is some truth in what you say, monsieur.” 

“Some truth! some truth in it, you say , — par le 
sang-Diou ! monsieur, it is truth unalloyed. ” 

Then, with his most pleasing smile, he continued, — 

“To begin our acquaintance, monsieur, and to 
expose the similarity of our views, permit me, then, as 
the first toast, to propose the illustrious Constable de 
Montmorency.” 

The gentleman, who had already confidently raised 
his glass with brightening countenance, became grave, 
and replaced it on the table. 

“You must pardon me, monsieur,” said he; “but 
with respect to that man, it is impossible for me to 
oblige you. Monsieur de Montmorency is my personal 
enemy.” 

“ Your personal enemy ? ” 

“ As much as a man in his position can be such to a 
man in mine; as much as the great can be the enemy of 
the lowly.” 

“Your personal enemy I In that case, from this 
hour he becomes mine, and all the more that I do not 
know him at all, and have no deep-seated affection for 
him. He has a bad reputation; he is miserly, over- 
bearing, dissolute; gets beaten like a ninny and caught 
like a fool. How in the devil’s name, then, did I come 
by the idea of offering you such a toast? Allow me, 
now, to make amends by proposing another, — To the 
illustrious Marechal de Saint Andre ! ” 

“ Faith ! you are farther astray than before, captain,” 
answered the Huguenot, with the same pantomime at 


36 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


mention of the Marechal de Saint Andre as at the name 
of the constable. “ I cannot drink the health of a man 
whom I do not esteem, • — a man capable of doing any- 
thing for advancement or money, a man who would sell 
his wife or his daughter as he has sold his conscience, 
if he were paid the same price. ” 

“ Oh, cap de Diou ! what is that you say ? ” cried the 
Gascon. “ What! was I about to drink the health of 
such a man ? Where the devil are your wits, captain ? ” 
he continued, reprimanding himself. “Ah! my friend, 
if you wish to preserve the esteem of honest men, you 
must make no more such blunders.” 

Then, shifting his audience, and addressing himself 
to the Huguenot, he said, — 

“ Monsieur, henceforth I hold the Marechal de Saint 
Andre in the same contempt that you yourself entertain 
for liim. And now, not willing to leave the impression 
of my mistake on your mind, I will propose a third 
health, with which, I hope, you will have no fault to 
find.” 

“ Whose, captain ? ” 

“ The health of the illustrious Francois de Lorraine , 
Due de Guise ! to the defender of Metz! to the con- 
queror of Calais! to the avenger of Saint Quentin and 
of Gravelines! to the repairer of the blunders of the 
Constable de Montmorency and the Marechal de. Saint 
Andre! — Ah!” 

“ Captain,” said the young man, growing pale, “you 
are unlucky, for I have made a vow.” 

“ What is it, monsieur ? Be assured that, if I can be 
of assistance in its fulfilment — ” 

“ I have sworn that the man whose health you propose 
shall die only by my hand.” 

“Fecaire!^^ exclaimed the Gascon. 


THE TEAVELLEES. 


37 


The Huguenot moved as if to rise. 

“ Why ! ” cried the G-ascon. “ What are you about 
now, monsieur? ” 

“ Monsieur, ” answered the Huguenot, “ the trial is 
ended; the three toasts have been proposed, and, as we 
do not seem to entertain the same opinion of the men, 
it is to be feared that matters would he much worse 
were we to touch upon their principles.” 

Hail! grand double et triple Diou viv ant ! it shall 
not be said that congenial souls have fallen out over 
men they did not know ; for I know neither the Due de 
Guise nor the Marechal de Saint Andre, nor do I know 
the Constable de Montmorency; let us assume, then, 
that I have been so imprudent as to propose the healths 
of the three great devils, — Satan, Lucifer, and Ash- 
taroth; you cause me to see, at the third toast, that I 
am risking my soul, and I promptly withdraw them. 
Here I am, then, at the point whence I started, and, 
as our glasses are full, we will, -if you please, drink 
them to our respective healths. God give you long 
and prosperous days, monsieur! I speak from the very 
depths of my heart. ” 

“The desire is too courteous not to he reciprocated, 
captain. ” 

And this time the Angoumois emptied his glass, fol- 
lowing the example of the captain, who had already 
drained his own. 

“Well, that matter is settled,” declared the Gascon, 
smacking his lips, “and we are getting on famously; 
and so, henceforth, monsieur, you can dispose of me as 
of your most devoted friend.” 

“I place myself equally at your disposal, captain,” 
responded the Huguenot, with his usual courtesy. 

“As for me,” continued the Gascon, “I will add, 


38 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


monsieur, that I await but the oiDportunity to do you a 
service. ” 

“ And I, for you,” responded the Angoumois. 

“ Sincerely, monsieur? ” 

“ Sincerely, captain.” 

“Well, then, the occasion you seek for doing me a 
favor is, I think, at hand.” 

“ Is it possible that 1 am to have this happiness 1 ” 

“ YeSjjyer la crux Dlou! either I very much mistake, 
or you hold it in your hand. ” 

“ Speak, then.” 

“This it is: I have come from Gascony; I have left 
the chateau of my ancestors, where I was visibly fat- 
tening to an alarming degree; my barber recommended 
exercise, and I have come to Paris for the purpose of 
devoting myself to some salutary exercise. It is un- 
necessary to say that I have chosen the military career. 
Do you not know in Angoumois of some good place 
which a Gascon captain could fill, — providing they give 
him no old women to amuse or new boots to break in ? 
I venture to flatter myself, monsieur, that, in such a 
case, I shall properly fulfill the duties with which I 
am intrusted.” 

“I wish I knew of such a place, captain,” replied 
the Angoumois; “unfortunately I left my country very 
young, and I know no one there.” 

‘‘Par les entrailles du saint-pere! monsieur, that is 
quite unfortunate; hut, while I think of it, my dear 
monsieur, may you not know of some little place in 
another province, — I have not absolutely set my heart 
on Angoumois, which is, to he sure, a fever district, — 
or, indeed, of some virtuous lord of noble race to whom 
you could recommend me? Should he not he quite vir- 
tuous, I would still make shift with him, providing 


THE TRAVELLEES. 


39 


God had endowed him with as much valor as he had 
denied him virtue.” 

“I regret exceedingly, captain, to be unable to serve 
in any way a man so easily suited; but I am a poor 
gentleman like you, and had I a brother, I could not 
keep him alive from my surplus of either purse or 
credit.” 

“ By the holy thief! ” cried the GavScon, “decidedly, 
it is very unfortunate; but, as your will is good, my 
dear monsieur,” he continued, rising and fastening his 
sword-buckle, “ I am, on my honor, under the same obli- 
gation to you.” 

And he saluted the Huguenot, who returned the 
salute, took up his glass and pot of wine, and went back 
to his former seat. 

Now the arrival of the coach produced a different 
effect on each of the actors introduced in this scene. 

As we have said, the gentleman from Angoumois 
resumed his former place, which permitted him to turn 
liis back to the door. The Gascon captain remained 
standing, as befitted a younger son in the presence of the 
illustrious personages announced by the page; the inn- 
keeper and his wife hastened to the door to place them- 
selves at the disposal of the travellers whom good luck 
was bringing them. 

The page, who, to keep his attire from contact with 
the mud, was standing erect on the footboard of the 
coachman’s seat, leaped to the ground and opened the 
door. A man of about forty years, haughty of mien, 
descended first. 

It was FranQois de Lorraine, Due de Guise. He 
wore the white scarf with fringe and fleurs-de-lis of 
gold, the insignia of his rank as lieutenant-general of 
the king’s army. His hair was cut short and straight 


40 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


across. He wore a black velvet toque Avitb white plumes, 
in the style of that period ; a doublet of pearl -gray and 
silver, which were his favorite colors; hose and velvet 
mantle of scarlet; and long boots, which, as occasion 
demanded, could be drawn up to the thigh or turned 
down below the knee. 

“Why, this is a veritable deluge,” said he, as he 
gained a footing among the puddles of Avater that tesse- 
lated the space before the door of the inn. 

Then, turning to the coach and leaning over into the 
interior, he continued, — 

“ Look here, dear Charlotte, you cannot set your pretty 
little feet into tliis villainous mud.” 

“ What is to be done, then? ” demanded a small voice, 
SAveet and flute-like. 

“My dear marechal,” pursued the duke, “ Avill you 
permit me to take your daughter in my arms ? It Avill 
rejuvenate me by fourteen years; for, fourteen years ago 
this very day, my lovely goddaughter, I lifted you 
thus from your cradle. Come, fair dove,” he continued, 
“ come out of your ark. ” 

And, taking the girl in his arms, he carried her at 
three strides into the . interior of the great hall. 

The title of dove, bestoAved by the gallant Due de 
Guise upon his goddaughter, of whom there Avas ques- 
tion of making his daughter-in-law, Avas not misplaced. 
It Avas, indeed, impossible to find a dove Avhiter, 
daintier, more alluring than the one Avbich the duke 
bore in his arms and deposited on the damp flags of the 
inn. 

The third person Avho descended, or, rather, Avho at- 
tempted to descend from the coach, Avas the Marechal de 
Saint Andre. He called his page; but although the 
latter was only three steps distant, he did not hear. 


THE TRAVELLEKS. 41 

True page that he was, his eyes were fondly fixed on his 
master’s daughter. 

“Jacques! Jacques!” reiterated the marechal. 
“ Where are you? Ah! you little rascal, will you come 
here ? ” 

“ Here I am ! ” cried the young page, speedily facing 
about. “ Here I am , Monsieur le Marechal ! ” 

“Morhleu!” exclaimed the latter. “I see, indeed, 
that you are there ; hut there is not where you ought to 
he, clown ! but here, here, at the foot of these steps. 
You know very well how helpless I am, just at pres- 
ent, you little knave! A'ie! oufi tonnerre!” 

“Pardon, Monsieur le Marechal,” said the confused 
page, presenting his shoulder to his master. 

“ Lean on me. Monsieur le Marechal,” said the duke, 
as he offered his arm to the gouty man. 

The marechal availed himself of the offer, and with 
the aid of this double support he, in turn, made his 
entrance into the inn. 

He was at that time a man of fifty years, ruddy of 
cheek and florid of complexion, although somewhat 
pale, for the time being, on account of his indisposi- 
tion; he had a red beard, fair hair, and blue eyes, and 
one felt at first sight"* that ten or twelve years before 
the period of which we write the Marechal de Saint 
Andre must have been one of the handsomest cavaliers 
of his day. 

He sat down with some difficulty in a kind of wicker 
armchair that seemed to have been placed for him at a 
corner of the fireplace; that is to say, in the corner 
opposite the one occupied by the captain from Gascony 
and the gentleman from Angoumois. For Mademoiselle 
Charlotte de Saint Andre, the duke placed the straw- 
bottomed chair, astride of which we saw the inn-keeper 


42 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


at the beginning of the preceding chapter, and, estab- 
lishing himself on a tabouret, he ordered the landlord to 
make a big fire in the fireplace; for, notwithstanding it 
was midsummer, the dampness was such that the fire 
became a very needful accessory. 

Just then the rain so increased, and fell in such tor- 
rents, that the water began to drive in at the open door 
as if through a breach in a dike or by a sluice that some 
one had forgotten to shut. 

“Hold,, landlord,” cried the marechal; “shut your 
door there ! would you drown us alive ? ” 

The inn -keeper handed his wife the fagot he was 
carrying, leaving to her, as to a modern vestal, the 
task of lighting the fire, and ran to the door to 
execute the marechal’s order. But just as he was 
exerting all his strength to swing the great barrier 
on its hinges a horse’s quick galop was heard along the 
road. 

Consequently the worthy man paused, fearing lest, 
should the door of the hostel be closed, the traveller 
might think it either full or deserted, and, on the one 
or the other supposition, pass by. 

“Pardon, monseigneur,” said he, thrusting his head 
through the gap of the door, “ but T think a traveller is 
stopping.” 

In fact, a horseman halted before the inn, leaped 
from his horse, and tossed the bridle to the landlord, 
saying, — 

“Take this animal to the stable, and spare neither 
bran nor oats.” 

And quickly entering the inn, where the fire was not 
yet lighted, he shook his hat, which was dripping with 
rain, without heeding that he was deluging every per- 
son in the room with streams of water. 


THE TRAVELLERS. 


43 


The first victim of this shower was the Due de Guise, 
who, quickly rising, made a single leap for the stranger, 
crying, — 

“ Hey ! monsieur fool, can’t you pay attention to what 
you are doing ? ” 

At this apostrophe the new-comer turned around, and, 
as he turned, with a movement swift as thought he 
had his sword in hand. Doubtless Monsieur de Guise 
would have paid dearly for the words with which he had 
greeted the stranger, had he not recoiled, rather at sight 
of the face than of the sword. 

“ What! prince, is it you? ” said he. 

The person whom the Due de Guise addressed as 
prince had only to glance at the illustrious leader from 
Lorraine to recognize him in turn. 

“ Why, yes, my very self. Monsieur le Due,” re- 
turned he, almost as much astonished to find the other 
installed in that paltry inn as the latter was astonished 
at seeing him there. 

“Admit, prince, that the storm must indeed he a 
blinding one, since I could mistake Your Highness for 
a student from the Landi.” 

Then, bowing, he added, — 

“ I tender Your Highness a most sincere apology.” 

“Really, there is no occasion, due,” said the last 
arrival, with an air of grace and superiority habitual to 
him. “ And by what chance do I find you here , whom 
I thought at your estate of Nanteuil ? ” 

“I have, in fact, just come from there, prince.” 

“ By way of Saint Denis ? ” 

“We turned out of our way at Gonesse for a passing 
glance at the Fete du Landi.” 

“ You, due ? It might answer for me, whose frivolity 
has become proverbial, thanks to my friends. But the 


44 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


serious, the stern Due de Guise going out of his way to 
see a student’s fete — ” 

“ The proposition was not mine, prince. I was 
accompanying the Marechal de Saint Andre, when his 
daughter, my goddaughter Charlotte, who is rather 
capricious, desired to see what the celebrated Fete du 
Landi was like, and, on being overtaken by the rain, 
we sought shelter here. ” 

“ Then the marechal is with you ? ” inquired the 
prince. 

“ He is there,” said the duke, stepping aside and dis- 
closing to view the two people whom the prince had 
indeed seen outlined in the half-light, hut whose faces, 
by reason of the obscurity, he had not distinguished. 

With an effort the marechal arose, supporting himself 
by his chair. 

“Marechal,” said the prince, advancing toward him, 
“ pardon me for not having recognized you ; but, in 
addition to the fact that this room is as dark as a cellar, 
or, rather, that this cellar is as dark as a dungeon, I am 
so blinded by the rain that, like Monsieur le Due, I 
should he capable of confounding a gentleman with a 
clown. Happily,. mademoiselle,” continued the prince, 
— turning to the young girl and regarding her with admi- 
ration, — “ happily, my sight is gradually returning, and 
I pity, with all my heart, the blind, who are deprived 
of the power of contemplating a face like yours.” 

This hold compliment caused a blush to overspread 
the girl’s cheeks. She lifted her eyes to look at the 
one who had just addressed to her the first flattery, per- 
haps, that she ever received; hut she lowered them as 
quickly, dazzled by the lightnings flashed from those of 
the prince. 

What her impression was we do not know; hut cer- 



mftHK 





1 

* « 


r 




> 


t 

, •♦ 



'« . 



I 

H 


p 





I 

• . 







t 

jI 




1 




♦ 



1 

fc * 

I 






I 


•! 


t 


• •, 




THE TKAVELLEES. 


45 


tainly it must have been very agreeable and full of 
charm, since it would have been difficult for a young 
girl of fourteen to find a more bewitching countenance 
than that of this cavalier of twenty -nine years, who was 
called prince, and styled Your Highness. 

He was, indeed, an accomplished cavalier, this 
Louis I. of Bourbon, Prince de Conde. 

Born on the seventh of May, 1530, he was, as we 
have said, just entering upon his thirtieth year at the 
time when our story begins. 

He was short rather than tall, hut of a wonderfully 
shapely figure. His auburn hair, cut short, shaded the 
lustrous brow on which a phrenologist of our time would 
have discovered all the bumps of superior intellect. 
His eyes, of a lapis-lazuli blue, were unspeakably soft 
and tender, and had not heavy eyebrows somewhat 
hardened the expression of a face which was still further 
softened by a fair beard, one might have taken the 
prince for a comely schoolboy, fresh from his mother's 
knee. And yet there were times when the beautiful eyes, 
limpid as the azure heavens, burned with fierce energy ; 
the wits of the day compared them to waters that were 
inviting pools when lighted by the sun, forbidding 
whirlpools when troubled by storms. In a word, his 
face betrayed his ruling passions, — valor and love, 
both pushed to the extreme. 

By this time, thanks to the closed door and the fire 
blazing in the chimney-place, the hall of the inn was 
aglow with fantastic beams, shedding divers and fanciful 
lights over the two groups occupying the corners, the 
one at the right and the other at the left; moreover, 
the tongues of flame that shot up the flue from time to 
time sent bluish lights flickering across the faces, giving 
to the youngest and most alive the aspect of beings from 


46 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


another world. This impression was so vivid that it 
even gained upon the inn-keeper, who, discovering that 
although it was barely seven o’clock in the evening 
night had already fallen, lighted a lamp, which he 
placed on the mantel above the group composed of the 
Prince de Conde, the Due de Guise, the Marechal de 
Saint Andre and his daughter. 

Instead of abating, the rain redoubled; no one there- 
fore, could think of departing. The rain was reinforced 
by a wind which came from the river in such terrible 
gusts that the window-shutters slammed against the wall 
and the inn itself shook from ridge to foundation. Had 
the coach been on the road, it would, beyond doubt, 
have been carried away, horses and all, by the tempest. 
The travellers resolved, therefore, to remain at the inn 
as long as this dreadful hurricane raged. 

Suddenly, at the very height of this terrible tumult 
of the elements, — the rain beating overhead, the 
shutters pounding the wall, the tiles wrenched from 
the roof and crashing on the ground, — a knocking was 
heard at the door, and a moaning voice entreated, in 
accents that grew fainter with each breath, — 

“ Open ! open I In the name of Our Lord, open ! ” 
Hearing the knock, the landlord rushed to open the 
door, thinking it the arrival of a new guest; but recog- 
nizing the voice he stopped midway of the room, -and, 
shaking his head, called out, — 

“You are at the wrong door, old hag. This is not 
the place for you to knock if you expect a door to be 
opened.” 

“Open, master landlord,” repeated the plaintive 
voice ; “ surely it is a sin to leave an old woman out- 
side in such weather as this.” 

“ Turn your broom-handle another way, consort of 


THE TRAVELLERS. 47 

the devil ! ” returned the inn-keeper, through the door; 
“ here is company too noble for you.’’ 

“ But why demanded the prince , shocked at the 
callousness of his host, — “ why do you not open the 
door to the poor woman ? ” 

“Because she is a witch. Your Highness, — tlie 
Witch of Andilly, — a miserable old woman who ought 
to be burned, as an example, in the middle of the Plain 
of Saint Denis, whose head runs on nothing but mis- 
chief, and whose predictions are always of thunder and 
hail. I am sure she is taking revenge on some poor 
peasant, and that she is the cause of this beastly 
weather. ” 

“ Witch or not,” said the prince, “ come, now, let her 
in. No human being must be kept at the door in such 
a storm.” 

“ Since Your Highness desires it,” yielded the host, 
“I will let the old heretic in; but I trust Your High- 
ness may not repent it; for she brings bad luck where- 
ever she goes. ” 

Impelled to obey, in spite of his reluctance, the inn- 
keeper unfastened the door; and there entered, or, rather, 
fell forward, an old woman with thin, gray, flowing 
locks, clad in a red woollen gown all in tatters, and a 
mantle as ragged,, that came almost to her heels. 

The Prince de Conde, true prince that he was, ad- 
vanced for the purpose of assisting the old woman to 
rise, for he had the best heart in the world. But the 
inn-keeper interfered, and said, as he set the old woman 
on her feet, — 

“ Thank Monsieur le Prince de Conde, gammer ; but 
for him, you can be very sure that, for the good of the 
neighborhood, I should have left you to die at the 
door.” 


48 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


The witch, without asking which was the prince, went 
directly to him, fell on her knees and kissed the hem 
of his mantle. The prince cast a compassionate glance 
upon the poor creature. 

“ Landlord,’^ said he, “ a pot of your best wine for 
this poor goodwife. Go and drink a little, dame,” 
continued he; “it will warm you.” 

The old creature went and took a seat at one of the 
tables in the depths of the hall; she thus found herself 
facing the entrance, having at her right the princes, the 
Marechal de Saint Andre and his daughter; at her left, 
the Gascon captain, the gentleman from Angoumois, and 
the page. 

The gentleman from Angoumois had again fallen into 
a profound revery. The youthful page was lost in 
contemplation of the charms of Mademoiselle de Saint 
Andre. The Gascon captain alone had all his wits 
about him; he thought that, were the old woman but 
one-tenth the sorceress the landlord pretended, here 
would be a light, at least, to guide his steps in search 
of the position of which he had spoken to the gentleman 
from Angoumois and the young page, but of which they 
could give him no information. 

Striding over his bench, therefore, he went and sta- 
tioned himself in front of the sorceress, who was just 
drinking, with marked satisfaction, her first glass of 
wine, and, with his legs wide apart, his left hand rest- 
ing on his sword-hilt, his head inclined over his breast, 
fixing on the old woman a glance expressive at once of 
shrewdness and of determination, he said, — 

“ Look here, witch ! can you really read the future ? ” 
“By the help of God, messire, yes, sometimes.” 

“ Can you cast my horoscope ? ” 

“ I will try, if it is your desire.” 


THE TRAVELLEKS. 


49 


“ Well, it is my desire.” 

“ Then I am at your bidding. ” 

“See! there is my hand; for you gypsies read the 
hand, do you not? ” 

“ Yes.” 

The sorceress took in her skinny black hands one of 
the captain’s, almost as lean and black as her own. 

“ What would you have me tell you first ? ” demanded 
she. 

“ Tell me first whether I shall be successful.” 

The witch scanned long the Gascon’s palm. 

The latter, impatient that the witch did not speak 
out, tossed his head as he demanded, with a sceptical 
air, — 

“ How the deuce can you tell by a man’s hand whether 
he will be successful ? ” 

“ Oh, very easily, messire ! only, that is my secret.” 

“ Tell us your secret.” 

“ If I should tell you, captain,” returned the witch, 
“ it would no longer be my secret, but yours. ” 

“ You are right; keep it, but make haste ! You tickle 
my hand, gypsy, and I do not like old women to tickle 
my hand.” 

“ You will be successful, captain.” 

“ Truly, witch ? ” 

“ Upon the cross ! ” 

“ Oh, cap de Diou / it is good news. And do you 
think success will come soon ? ” 

“ In a few years. ” 

“ Diable / I would rather it were sooner ; in a few 
days, for example.” 

“ I am able to tell the result of events , but not to 
hasten their march.” 

“ And will it cause me much trouble ? ” 

4 


50 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


“ 1 ^ 0 ; but it will cost others much.” 

“ What do you mean 1 ” 

“ I mean that you are ambitious, captain.” 

“ Ah ! j?er la crux Diou ! you speak the truth, gypsy. ” 

“ To reach your end, all roads will seem right to 
you.” 

“ Yes; only put me in the one I must follow, and you 
shall see.” 

“Oh, you will take it of your own accord, full of 
horrors though it be.” 

“ And what shall I come to, tell me, by following 
this dreadful road 1 ” 

“ You will come to be an assassin, captain.” 

“ Sang du Christ ! ” cried the Gascon ; “ you are but 
an old hag, and you can go and tell fortunes for those 
who are stupid enough to believe in them.” 

And casting at the old woman an indignant look he 
turned away, and sat down, grumbling, — 

“ Assassin ! assassin ! I ! Be assured of one thing, 
witch, it would have to be for a very large sum ! ” 

“Jacques,” then said Mademoiselle de Saint And re j 
who had observed the captain’s proceedings, and who, 
her ears strained with the curiosity of fourteen years, 
had not lost a word of the dialogue between the witch 
and the Gascon, — “Jacques,” — addressing herself to 
the page, — “go, now, and have your fortune told; it 
will amuse me.” 

The young man, addressed for the second time as 
Jacques, and who was no other than the page, arose 
without a word, and with the willing air of unques- 
tioning obedience approached the sorceress. 

“ Here is my hand, good woman,” said he. “ Will you 
tell my fortune as you have just told the captain’s? ” 

“Very willingly, my handsome lad,” said she. 


THE TRAVELLERS. 51 

And taking the hand, white as a woman’s, that the 
young man presented, she shook her head. 

“ Well, dame,” inquired the page,“ do you find noth- 
ing good in that hand ? ” 

“ You will be unhappy.” 

“ Ah! poor Jacques,” half in raillery, half in soli- 
citude, exclaimed the fair girl who had evoked the 
prophecy. 

The youth smiled sadly , and murmured , — 

“ N'ot ‘ will be,’ — I am so.” 

“Love will cause all your misfortunes,” pursued the 
old woman. 

“ Shall I die young, at least?” continued the page. 

“ Alas ! yes, poor child, — at t wen ty -four. ” 

“ So much the better.” 

“Why, Jacques! ‘so much the better’? What are 
you saying ? ” 

“ Since I must be unhappy, what is the use of 
living ? ” returned the youth. “ But I shall at least 
die on the battlefield ? ” 

“No.” 

“ In my bed?” 

“ No.” 

“ By accident ? ” 

“No.” 

“ How, then, shall I die, dame? ” 

“ I cannot say just how you will die; but I can tell 
the cause of your death.” 

“ And the cause ? ” 

The old woman lowered her voice. 

“You will be an assassin! ” she said. 

The young man became as pale as if the predicted 
event were already at hand, and with bowed head he 
regained his seat, saying, — 


52 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ Thanks, dame; what is to be will be! ” 

“Well,” inquired the captain of the page, “what 
did that infernal old woman have to say, my young 
spark 1 ” 

“Nothing that I can repeat, captain,” replied the 
latter. The captain turned to the Angoumois. 

“Well, my friend,” said he, “are not you, too, 
curious to try your fate ? Come , true or false , good or 
bad, fortune-telling serves at least to while away the 
time. ” 

“Pardon me,” answered the gentleman, who appeared 
to start suddenly from his re very; “I have, on the 
contrary y a subject of great importance about which to 
consult this woman.” And, rising, he advanced to the 
witch with the directness of movement that denotes in 
its possessor strength and tenacity of purpose. 

“Magician,” said he, in solemn tones, extending a 
nervous hand, “ shall I succeed in my undertaking ? ” 
The gypsy took the proffered hand; but after look- 
ing at it a second time she dropped it with a look of 
terror. “ 

“ Oh, yes,” said she, “ you will succeed, to your own 
destruction 1 ” 

“ But I shall succeed ? ” 

“ At what cost ftTesus Dieu / ” 

“ At the cost of my enemy’s life; is it not so? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ What matters it to me, then? ” 

And the gentleman returned to his seat, darting at the 
Due de Guise a glance of unspeakable hatred. 

“ Strange! strange! strange! ” muttered the old crone, 
— “ assassins, all three ! ” 

And she regarded with horror the group composed of 
the Gascon captain, the Angoumois gentleman, and the 


THE TKAVELLERS. 


53 


youthful page. This exhibition of chiromancy had 
been attentively followed by the eyes of the noble guests 
who occupied the opposite end of the room. We say 
by the eyes, because, not being able to hear all, they 
had at least been able to see all. 

Now, however little we may believe in sorcerers, we 
are always curious to test the occult science called magic, 
whether it predicts for us a thousand blessings, and our 
verdict is in its favor, or foretells a thousand misfor- 
tunes, and we accuse it of lying. For the same reason, 
doubtless, the Marechal de Saint Andre was impelled to 
question the old woman. 

“ I have but little faith in all this foolishness,” said 
he ; “ but I must confess that in my infancy a gypsy 
woman foretold what would happen to me up to my 
fiftieth year; I am fifty-five, and I should not be loath 
to have another one, now, predict what will take place 
till the day of my death. Advance, then, daughter of 
Beelzebub,” he added, addressing the old woman. 

The sorceress arose and approached the group. 

“Here is my hand,” continued the marechal; “now, 
then, speak, and speak boldly! what good can you tell 
me? ” 

“ None, Monsieur le Marechal.” 

“ None ? Diable ! it is no great matter; and bad ? ” 

“ Do not ask, Monsieur le Marechal.” 

“ Nonsense, I will ask. Come, tell me, 

what do you see in my palm ? ” 

“An abrupt termination of the life-line. Monsieur 
le Marechal.” 

“ Which means that I have not long to live, eh ? ” 

“ Father I ” murmured the girl , entreating him by a 
look to go no farther. 

“Nonsense, Charlotte,” said the marechal. 


54 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ Hearken to that beautiful child,” said the witch. 

“ Come, gypsy, proceed ! Then I shall die soon ? ” 

“ Yes, Monsieur le Marechal.” 

“ Shall I die a violent death or a natural one 1 ” 

“ A violent death. You will die on the battlefield, 
but not by the hand of an honorable enemy.” 

“ At the hand of a traitor, then 1 ” 

“ At the hand of a traitor. ” 

“That is — ?” 

“ You will be assassinated.” 

“Dear father! ” murmured the girl, with a shudder, 
and pressing close to the marechal. 

“ Have you any faith in all this witchcraft ? ” said 
the latter, kissing her forehead. 

“ Ho, father, and yet my heart throbs in my breast as 
if the predicted misfortune were about to overtake you.” 

“ Child! ” said the marechal, shrugging his shoulders, 

“ come, show her your hand, and let her predictions add 
as many days to your life as they cut off from mine. ” 

But the girl obstinately refused. 

“I, then, will set you an example, mademoiselle,”" 
said the Due de Guise, reaching forth his palm to the 
soothsayer. 

Then, with a smile, he added, — 

“ I give you due warning, gypsy, that my horoscope 
has already been cast three times, and three times it has 
threatened disaster; for the honor of the black art, do 
not make it lie.” 

“ Monseigneur,” said the old woman, having examined 
the duke’s hand, “ I do not know what others have said; 
but this is what I myself predict.” 

“ Let us hear ! ” 

“ Like the Marechal de Saint Andre, you will be 
assassinated. ” 


THE TEAVELLERS. 


55 


“It was nothing less,” rejoined the duke, “and it is 
not to he avoided. There, take that, and go to the 
devil ! ” 

And he tossed the witch a piece of gold. 

“ All ga / the gypsy must be warning us of a massacre 
of the nobility! I begin to repent having admitted 
her, due; however, not to appear to be the only one 
to shirk his destiny, i’ faith ! it is my turn next, 
dame! ” 

“ Do you, then, believe in witches, prince 'i ” inquired 
the Due de Guise. 

“Faith! due, I have seen so many predictions fail, 
so many horoscopes fulfilled, that I will say with 
Michel de Montaigne, ‘ What know I? ’ Come, good 
woman, here is my hand; what see you in it? Good 
or ill, tell me all.” 

“This is what I see in your hand, monseigneur: a 
life full of love, of battles, of pleasures, of dangers, 
terminated by a bloody death.” 

“ Shall I , too, be assassinated ? ” 

“ Yes, monseigneur.” 

“Like Monsieur le Marechal de Saint Andre, — 
like Monsieur de Guise ? ” 

“ Like them.” 

“ Whether you speak truth or falsehood, good woman, 
since you have announced that I shall die in good com- 
pany, take this for your trouble.” 

And he gave her, not one piece of gold, as the Due 
de Guise had done, but his entire wallet. 

“Please God, monseigneur,” said the crone, as she 
kissed the prince’s hand, “that the poor gypsy may be 
wrong, and her prediction unfulfilled! ” 

“And should it be fulfilled, good woman, in spite 
of your desire to see it miscarry, I promise you, there- 


56 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


after, to believe in witches. True,” he added, smiling, 
“ it would be a little late.” 

There followed a moment of gloomy silence, during 
which the rain was heard gently falling. 

“ But,” said the prince, “ the storm has abated. I bid 
you good evening. Monsieur le Marechal; Monsieur 
le Due, good evening. I am due at the Hotel Coligny 
at nine o’clock; I must set out.” 

“ What, prince, in this storm? ” demanded Charlotte. 

“Mademoiselle,” said the prince, “I thank you most 
sincerely for your solicitude; but, since I am to be 
assassinated, I have nothing to fear from the lightning.” 

And having bowed to his two companions, and rested 
on Mademoiselle de Saint Andre a look that compelled 
the girl to lower her eyes, the sound of a horse’s swift 
gallop was heard on the road to Paris. 

“ Order the coach, little Jacques ! ” said the marechal. 
“ If the prince is due at the Hotel Coligny by nine 
o’clock, we ourselves are due at the Palais des 
Tournelles at ten.” 

The coach came up. The Marechal de Saint Andr^, 
his daughter, and the Due de Guise took their seats. 

Let them follow the Prince de Conde on the road to 
Paris; we shall there meet them again later. 

Let us merely note the names of the three whom the 
witch foretold were to be assassinated, and the names of 
the three whom she predicted were to be assassins : the 
Due de Guise, the Marechal de Saint Andre, the Prince 
de Conde; Poltrot de Mere, Baubigny de Mezieies, 
Montesquieu. 

It was undoubtedly with the purpose of giving each 
a warning, which to each alike was useless, that Provi- 
dence had brought together these six men at the Bed 
Horse Inn. 


TKIUMPHAL PROGKESS OF PEESIDENT MINAED. 57 


V. 


THE TRIUMPHAL PROGRESS OF PRESIDENT MINARD. 

On Tuesday, the eighteenth day of December, in the 
year fifteen hundred and fifty-nine, six months after the 
Fete du Landi, at about three o’clock in the afternoon, 
in the light of a setting sun as beautiful as one could 
wish to see so late in the year, there rode along the 
middle of the Vielle-Kue-du-Temple, astride upon a 
mule so sorry of aspect as to herald its owner’s sordid 
avarice, Maitre Antoine Minard, one of the parliamentary 
councillors. 

Maitre Antoine Minard, toward whom, for the time 
being, we direct the eyes of our readers, was a man of 
sixty years, fat and chubby, the fair locks of whose 
peruke were foppishly tossed to the breeze. 

Ordinarily, his countenance must have expressed su- 
preme beatitude. Of a certainty, no sorrow had ever 
clouded that polished brow, so glossy and free of 
wrinkles; no tear had left its furrow beneath those 
bulging eyes. In short, selfish indifference and vulgar 
enjoyment had alone spread their gloss upon the ver- 
milion of that rubicund face, majestically propped by 
a triple chin. 

But on that day the countenance of President Minard 
was far from being illumined by its usual halo; for, 
although he was not more than four hundred paces from 
his house, and the distance, as can be seen, was not 


58 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


great, he did not seem to be certain of reaching it. As 
a result, his face, reflecting the inner emotions by 
which it was agitated, was expressive of the keenest 
anxiety. 

In fact, the rabble forming the worthy president’s 
cortege was far from putting him into a good humor. 
From his starting out, he had been followed by an 
immense mob, which seemed to take real pleasure in 
abusing him; every brawler, shrieker, and scold in the 
capital of this truly Christian kingdom appeared to have 
gathered at the Place du Palais for the purpose of escort- 
ing him to his very door. 

What, then, had roused the ire of the majority of his 
fellow-citizens against the worthy Maitre Minard ? 

We are about to relate the cause as briefly as possible. 

Maitre Minard had but just condemned to death a 
man who, with good reason, w^as one of the most highly 
esteemed men in Paris, his own colleague in parliament, 
his brother in the sight of God, the virtuous councillor, 
Anne Dubourg. 

What crime had Dubourg committed ? That of Aris- ^ 
tides, the Athenian. He was called the Just. 

Here are the grounds of the trial, which had lasted 
six months, and had just ended so fatally for the poor 
councillor. 

In the month of June, 1559, at the solicitation of 
Cardinal de Lorraine, and his brother, Francois de Guise, 
whom the French clergy had appointed as God’s proxies 
for the defense and preservation of the Catholic religion. 
Apostolic and Koman, Henri II. had issued an edict 
constraining parliament to condemn all Lutherans to 
death, without mercy and without exception. 

Now, a few’ councillors having, in spite of this edict, 
released a Huguenot from prison, the Due de Guise and 


TRIUMPHAL PROGRESS OF PRESIDENT MINARD. 59 

the Cardinal de Lorraine, satisfied with nothing less 
than the utter extermination of the Protestants, per- 
suaded the king to go, on the tenth of June, and occupy 
his throne at the Augustine convent, where the court 
was then sitting, the Palais having been taken for the 
wedding festivities of King Philippe II. and Madame 
Elisabeth and of Mademoiselle Marguerite and Prince 
Emmanuel Philibert. 

Three or four times a year all the chambers of the 
courts of justice united together and were called the 
“ Grand Chamber,” and this assembly was called mercu- 
riale because of its being held, by preference, on 
Wednesday. 

The king therefore repaired to the parliament on 
the day of the merciirlale , and opened the session by 
demanding why they had arrogated to themselves the 
right to set Protestants at liberty, and how it happened 
that they had not confirmed the edict condemning them 
to death. 

Five councillors rose, impelled by the same sentiment, 
and, in behalf of himself and his colleagues, Anne 
Dubourg firmly answered, — 

‘‘Because that man was innocent, and because to liber- 
ate an innocent man, although a Huguenot, is to act 
according to the dictates of humanity.” 

The five councillors were Dufaur, LaFumee, De Poix, 
De la Porte, and Anne, or Antoine, Dubourg. 

It was Dubourg, as we have said, who had taken it 
upon himself to answer. Then he added, — 

“ As for the edict, sire, I cannot advise the king to 
have it ratified; I beg, on the contrary, that the judg- 
ments it contains be suspended until the doctrines of 
those who are so hastily condemned receive mature con- 
sideration and be debated at length before a council. 


60 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


At that moment President Minard interposed and 
asked for a special audience with the king. 

“ He was,” say the “Memoirs of Conde,” “ a crafty, 
wily, sensuous, ignorant man, but a great leader of fac- 
tions and intrigues. Eager to do anything that would 
he agreeable to the king and to the heads of the Church 
of Rome, and fearing that Dubourg’s judgment carried 
greater weight than his own and that they must needs 
he influenced by it, he therefore gave the king to under- 
stand that the councillors of his court were nearly all 
Lutherans; that they wished to wrest from him his 
power and his crown ; that they favored the Lutherans ; 
that it was frightful to hear in what terms some of them 
spoke of the holy mass; that they paid no attention to 
the laws and royal ordinances ; that they boasted aloud 
of disregarding them; that they dressed in black; that 
the majority of them went often to their meetings, hut 
never to mass, and that, if he did not strike at the root 
of the evil, the Church, dating from this mercuriale^ 
was forever lost.” « 

In short, abetted by the Cardinal de Lorraine, he 
so excited, incensed, and bewitched the king that the 
latter, quite beside himself, sent for the Sieur de Lorges, 
Comte de Montgomery, captain of the Scotch guard, and 
Monsieur de Chavigny, captain of his regular guards, 
and commanded them to apprehend the five councillors 
and conduct them at once to the Bastile. 

Scarcely had this arrest been made when every one 
foresaw its consequences: the Guises desired to terrify 
the Huguenots by some awful execution , and if not the 
five councillors, Anne Duhourg at least, the most impor- 
tant one of them, was regarded as lost. 

Hence, on the morrow, this couplet, containing the 


TEIUMPHAL PEOGRESS OF PRESIDENT MINAED. 61 


names of the five prisoners, so arranged as to hint at the 
fate in store for the chief of the Huguenot opposition, 
was going the rounds of Paris : — 

“ Par Poix, de la Porte du Faur, 

J’aper9ois du Bourg, La Fumee.” ^ 

However, the quintuple arrest, which had inspired 
some wit of the day with this had distich, produced a 
sort of stupefaction throughout all Paris, and through- 
out every city in France, but especially in the provinces 
of the North. The arrest of this honest man, Anne 
Hubourg, may even he regarded as the chief cause of the 
Amboise conspiracy, and of all the uprisings and battles 
by which the soil of France was reddened with blood 
during forty years. 

May we be pardoned, therefore, for dwelling, in this 
chapter, on these historical details which form the 
foundation on which is erected the entire framework of 
this new hook, which we very humbly, but with the 
confidence habitual to us from their long indulgence, 
place before our readers. 

Five days after this arrest, on Friday, the twenty-fifth 
of June, which was the third day of the tournament 
given by the king at the Ch§,teau des Tournelles, near 
that same Bastile in which the imprisoned councillors 
heard the echoing clarions, trumpets, and hautboys of 
the fete, the king sent for the captain of the Scotch 
guard, that same Comte de Montgomery who, aided by 
Monsieur de Chavigny, had led the five councillors to 
prison, and gave him orders to make a raid at once upon 
the Lutherans in the country of Caux-les-Tournois. 

1 Which may be rendered : — 

“ From the pitch, through the furnace-door, 

I can see Dubourg’s smoke pour.” 


62 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


In this commission he had enjoined the Comte de 
Montgomery to put to the edge of the sword all who 
were attainted and convicted of heresy, to put them to 
the rack, to cut out their tongues, and then burn them 
at a slow fire; as for such as were merely suspected, 
they were to have their eyes put out. 

Now, five days after Henri II. had given this com- 
mission to the captain of the Scotch guard, Gabriel de 
Lorges, Comte de Montgomery, struck King Henri with 
his lance and killed him. 

This death made so great an impression that it cer- 
tainly saved four of the five councillors, and arrested the 
execution of the fifth. One of the five was pardoned, 
three were fined. Anne Duhourg alone must pay with 
his life. Had he not acted as spokesman ? 

Now, although the Guises were the ardent promoters 
of these decrees, one of their most zealous executives was 
this hypocrite. President Antoine Minard, whom we 
have left riding a rebellious mule in the Yielle-Kue-du- 
Temple, assailed by vociferations, insults, and threats, 
inspired by the arrant hatred of indignant citizens. 

And when we say that, although he was not more 
than a hundred paces from his own door, he was never- 
theless not very certain of reaching home, we make out 
the situation to he no worse than it was, since, on the 
day before, in broad daylight, by a shot from a pistol 
thrust in his very face, a parliament clerk, Julien 
Presne by name, had been killed; he was on his way to 
the palace, armed, it was said, with a letter from the 
Due de Guise, in which the latter urged his brother, 
the Cardinal de Lorraine, to hasten the trial of Anne 
Duhourg. 

Consequently this murder, whose perpetrator had not 
been found, was naturally present to the mind of the 


TRIUMPHAL PROGRESS OF PRESIDENT MINARD. 63 


president, and the spectre of the poor clerk who had 
been assassinated only the morning before rode on the 
crupper behind him. 

It was this fellow-traveller that occasioned the presi- 
dent’s pallor and caused him to redouble the convulsive 
movements with which his heels belabored the obstinate 
animal that served as his mount, but was making no 
headway. 

However, he arrived in front of his house safe and 
sound; I attest — and if he were still alive he too would 
attest — that it was high time. 

In fact, goaded by his silence, which was merely the 
result of his agony, but was distrusted as a mark of his 
evil-mindedness, the crowd pressed closer and closer 
upon him, threatening to smother him in the end. 

And , threatened as he was by the waves of that stormy 
sea. President Minard nevertheless reached his haven, 
to the great satisfaction of his family, who hastened, 
as soon as he was within, to close and bolt the door 
behind him. 

He had been so agitated by his peril, the worthy 
man, that he forgot his mule at the door, — a thing he 
had never done on any other occasion, although, at a 
fair estimate, and rating her above her price, she was 
not worth twenty Paris sous. 

And it was very fortunate for him that he forgot his 
mule; for the fickle Parisian populace, which turns so 
easily from threats to laughter, and from the sublime 
to the ridiculous, seeing that something was left to it, 
contented itself with what was left, and took the mule 
instead of the president. 

What happened to the mule in the hands of the pop- 
ulace history does not relate : then let us leave the 
mule, and follow the master within doors. 


64 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


VI. 


THE BIRTHDAY OP PRESIDENT MINARD. 

We are but slightly interested — is it not so, dear readers 
— in the alarm which the delay of the worthy President 
Minard had caused his family? We will concern our-., 
selves, then, no longer about it, and following in the 
train of the family, while the latter follow their chief, 
with them we will enter the dining-room where the 
supper was served. 

Let us cast a rapid glance at the guests, and we will 
then lend an ear to their conversation. 

None of the guests about the table would, on first 
sight, have aroused the interest of an intelligent ob- 
server. They afforded a sample of the silly and insig- 
nificant countenances which are to be found in every 
class of society. ^ 

The thoughts by which he was agitated were reflected 
in the face of every member of the president’s family. 
All their ideas were bewildered in the fogs of ignorance 
or stranded in the shallows of vulgarity. 

With some it was interest, with others egotism; with 
these avarice, with those servility. 

Thus, quite different from the mob which, like the 
slave behind the chariot of the Eoman conqueror, had 
just cried to President Minard, “ Eemember, Minard, 
that you are mortal! ” the members of this family, 
gathered together on the occasion of the president’s 
anniversary, which was also his birthday, — all these 
people waited but for a cue from the councillor to con- 


THE BIRTHDAY OF PRESIDENT MINARD. 65 


gratulate him on the brilliant part which he had just 
taken at the trial of his colleagues, and to drink to the 
happy outcome of the trial , — that is , to the death sen- 
tence of Anne Dubourg; and when Minard, letting him- 
self drop into his armchair, had said, while passing his 
handkerchief over his forehead, “Ah! faith! friends, 
we have had a stormy session to-day,” all, as if they had 
waited only for this signal, burst into exclamations. 

“ Be quiet, noble man! ” exclaimed a nephew, acting 
as spokesman. “ Say not a word ; recover from your 
fatigue, and permit us to stay the perspiration running 
from your noble brow. To-day is your birthday, — that 
grand day so glorious for your family and for parlia- 
ment, of which you are one of the luminaries; we are 
assembled here to celebrate it, but let us wait a few 
moments longer. Regain your breath ; drink a glass of 
this old Burgundy, and presently we ourselves will 
drink to the preservation of your precious days; but, in 
Heaven’s name, do not arrest their course by any indis- 
cretion! Your family entreats you to preserve your- 
self for its sake, to preserve for the Church its strongest 
prop, for France one of her most glorious sons.” 

At this little speech, antiquated in style even for that 
ancient date, President Minard, with tears in his eyes, 
endeavored to make reply; but the spare hands of the 
president’s wife and the plump ones of his young daugh- 
ters closed the president’s mouth and hindered his utter- 
ance. Finally, after a few moments of rest. Monsieur 
Minard began to speak, and a prolonged “sh! ” went 
forth among those present, so that the very servants 
standing at the doors should not lose a word of the 
eloquent councillor’s response. 

“Ah! friends,” he began, “brothers, relatives, my 
esteemed and dearly beloved family, I thank you for 

5 


66 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


your friendship and your kind praises; but I am in 
very truth deserving of them, 0 my loving family ! for 
1 can say without pride, or, if you prefer it, with a 
noble pride, I can say boldly that, but for me, but for 
my persistence and stubbornness, the heretic Anne 
Dubourg would at the present moment stand acquitted, 
like his accomplices, — De Poix, La Fumee, Dufaur, and 
De la Porte; but, owing to my energetic will, the day 
is won, and, thanks be to God,” he continued, lift- 
ing his eyes in token of gratitude to heaven, “ I have 
just pronounced the death-sentence of that wretched 
Huguenot.” 

“ Oh, vivat ! ” cried the relatives with one voice, and 
raising their arms toward heaven. “ Long live our 
illustrious kinsman! Long live the man who never 
yields! Long live the man who, on all occasions, puts 
down the enemies of the faith ! May he live forever, 
the great President Minard ! ” 

And the servants behind the door, the cook in the 
kitchen, the groom in the stable, gave back the echo: 

“ Long live the great President Minard ! ” ' 

“ Thanks, my friends, thanks ! ” said the president in 
unctuous tones, — “ thanks ! But two men — two great 
men — two princes, are entitled to their share in these 
praises you lavish upon me; without them, without 
their support, without their influence, I should never 
liave carried out this glorious affair. Those two men, 
my friends, are Monseigneur le Due Franqois de Guise 
and His Eminence, the Cardinal de Lorraine. Having 
drank my health, let us now drink theirs, my friends, 
and may God prolong the days of those two great 
statesmen ! ” 

They drank the health of the Due de Guise and of 
the Cardinal de Lorraine; but Madame Minard observed 


THE BIRTHDAY OE PRESIDENT MINARD. 67 


that her gracious spouse merely touched the glass with 
his lips, and replaced it upon the table, while some 
memory flitted across his brain like a cloud, and dark- 
ened his face with its shadow. 

“ What is the matter, my dear,” she asked; “ what is 
the cause of this sudden sadness ? ” 

“Alas!” said the president, “no triumph is com- 
plete, no joy unmixed! A melancholy recollection has 
just come to mind.” 

“ And what melancholy recollection can you enter- 
tain, dear husband, in this the most beautiful hour of 
your triumph ? ” demanded his wife. 

“ Just as I was in the act of drinking to the prolonga- 
tion of the days of Monsieur de Guise and his brother, 
the thought came to me that yesterday a man was assas- 
sinated whom they had done me the honor to despatch 
to me.” 

“ A man ? ” cried the family. 

“ That is, a clerk,” explained Minard. 

“ What ! one of your clerks was murdered yesterday ? ” 

“ Ah ! mon Dieu ! yes.” 

“ Can it be true ? ” 

“You knew Julien Fresne, indeed?” returned the 
president. 

“ Julien Fresne ? ” cried one of the relatives. “ Yes, 
of course we knew him ! ” 

“ A zealous Catholic,” remarked a second. 

“ A very honest man,” said a third. 

“ I met him yesterday in the Eue Barre-du-Bec, com- 
ing from the Hotel de Guise, so he said, and on his way 
to the Palais. 

“Well, this is the way of it: as he was nearing the 
bridge of Notre Dame, conveying to Monsieur le Cardinal 
de Lorraine from his brother, the Due de Guise, a 


68 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


despatch which was to have been communicated to me, 
he was assassinated ! ” 

“ Oh,” cried the president’s wife, “ how dreadful ! ” 

“ Assassinated ! ” reiterated the family in chorus, — 
“ assassinated ! One martyr more ! ” 

“ And has the murderer been arrested , at least ? ” 
demanded the president’s wife of Minard. 

“ They do not know who he is,” answered the latter. 

“ Have they any suspicion ? ” asked his wife. 

“ Better still, some certainty.” 

“ Some certainty ? ” 

“ Yes ; who should it be if not a friend of Dubourg’s ? ” 

“ Of coarse it is a friend of Dubourg’s,” echoed the 
entire family; “who should it be, pardieu ! if not a 
friend of Dubourg’s?” 

“ Has any one been arrested ? ” pursued the president’s 
wife. 

“A hundred persons, nearly; I myself pointed out 
thirty of them. ” 

“It will be very unfortunate,” said a voice, “ if the 
murderer is not found among the hundred persons.” 

“If he is not among them,” said the president, “a 
hundred, two hundred, three hundred others will be 
arrested. ” 

“ The villains! ” said a young gentlewoman of eighteen 
years; “ they ought all to be burned together.” 

“It has been thought of,” assented the president; 
“ and the day when the extinction of the entire body of 
Protestants has been resolved upon will be a fine day 
for me.” 

“Oh, wdiat a noble man you are, my dear!” ex- 
claimed the president’s wife, with tears in her eyes. 

Monsieur Minard’s two daughters advanced and kissed 
their father. 


THE BIETHDAY OF PRESIDENT MINARD. 69 

“ And is it known what the duke’s letter contained? ” 
continued the president’s wife. 

“ No,” replied Minard. “ That is what has so greatly 
concerned the court to-day; hut it will be known to- 
morrow. Monsieur le Cardinal de Lorraine is to see his 
distinguished brother this evening.” 

“ The letter was stolen, then? ” 

“ Undoubtedly ; it is even probable that poor Julien 
Fresne'was assassinated because he was the bearer of 
that letter. The assassin having possessed himself of 
it and taken to flight, some archers have been sent in 
pursuit of him; the entire watch and all of Monsieur 
de Mouchy’s men have been in the field ever since 
morning; but at five o’clock in the afternoon there was 
as yet no news.” 

Just then a servant entered, announcing to Mon- 
sieur Minard that a stranger, who had brought the 
letter snatched from Julien Fresne by the assassin on 
the day before, insisted upon speaking to him without 
delay. 

“Oh, bring him in immediately! ” cried the presi- 
dent, radiant with joy. “ God is rewarding my zeal in 
his holy cause by permitting this precious document to 
fall into my hands.” 

Five minutes later the servant ushered in the stranger, 
and Monsieur Minard saw a young man of twenty-four 
or twenty-five years of age, with red hair, a fair beard, 
a keen, piercing glance, and a pale face; at the presi- 
dent’s invitation he advanced to a seat near the opposite 
side of the table. 

It was the same young man who, when leaving the 
river-hank, had told the murderers of his friend Medard 
that they would, perhaps, hear of him again. 

It was Kobert Stuart. 


70 


THE HOEOSGOPE. 


The young man accepted the invitation. Courteously, 
and with a smile upon his lips, he bowed to the entire 
company; he then seated himself, having the president 
in front of him and the door at his hack. 

“Monsieur,” said Eohert Stuart, addressing himself 
directly to the president, “is it, indeed, Monsieur le 
Pre'sident Antoine Minard whom I have the honor to 
address ? ” 

“Yes, monsieur, certainly,” returned the president, 
highly astonished that a man could be so ignorant of 
physiognomy as not to read in his face that he alone 
could be and was the renowned Minard. “Yes, mon- 
sieur, I am President Minard.” 

“Very well, monsieur,” continued the unknown; 

“ although I have asked a question which on the face 
of it must seem to you unnecessary, you will immedi- 
ately see that it has arisen from my great desire to avoid 
any possibility of mistake.” 

“What do you mean, monsieur?” demanded the 
magistrate. “ I was told that you desired to hand me 
the despatch that the unfortunate Julien Fresne was ** 
carrying when he was assassinated.” 

“It was somewhat misleading, perhaps, monsieur,” 
said the young man, with infinite courtesy, “if it was 
announced that I would deliver that letter. I made no 
such promise, and I shall give it to you or I shall keep 
it, according to your answer to a request that I shall 
have the honor to make you; you understand, monsieur, 
that, to gain possession of so important a document, I 
have had to risk my life. A man does not risk his life, 
you are aware, — you who are skilled in reading the 
human heart, — without some great interest at stake. I 
have therefore the honor to repeat, in order that there 
may he no further misunderstanding, that I will not put 


THE BIRTHDAY OF PRESIDENT MINARD. 71 


you in possession of the despatch unless I am satisfied 
with the answer given to my request.” 

“ And what is the request, monsieur? ” 

“ Monsieur le President, you know better than another, 
that in a well-conducted examination everything awaits 
its turn ; therefore I can tell you that only in due 
season.” 

“ However, you have this letter about you ? ” 

“ Here it is, monsieur.” 

And the young man drew from his pocket a sealed 
missive, which he showed to President Minard. 

The latter’s first impulse was, we must confess, an 
ignoble one ; he was prompted to signal his cousins and 
nephews, who were listening to the conversation with a 
degree of surprise, to fall upon the unknown, seize the 
letter, and despatch him to the dungeons of the ChMelet, 
there to keep company with the hundred persons already 
arrested for the murder of Julien Presne. 

But, aside from the energy stamped on the young 
man’s face, which bore every mark of a will that reached 
the height of obstinacy, and caused the president to be 
apprehensive lest he had not sufficiently reliable forces 
to wrest the parchment from him, he concluded that, 
thanks to his own extraordinary cleverness and skill, 
he would be more successful in employing a ruse than 
in displaying violence. He restrained himself, there- 
fore, and as* the young man’s elegant figure and his 
careful though severe toilet justified, of themselves, 
the invitation which he thought of extending him, he 
begged him to draw up to the table and sup with them, 
that they might have an abundance of time for their 
interview. 

The young man politely thanked him, but declined 
the invitation. 


72 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


The president urged that he would at least refresh 
himself, hut again the visitor declined with thanks. 

“Speak, then, monsieur,” said Minard; “and since 
you will accept nothing, I beg that you will allow me 
to proceed with my supper, for I frankly confess that I 
am perishing of hunger.” 

“Proceed, monsieur,” replied the young man, “and 
a good appetite to you ! The request I have to make 
is of such importance that, to he well understood, it 
demands a few preliminary remarks. Eat, Monsieur 
le President; I will speak.” 

“ Speak, monsieur; I will eat,” returned the president. 

Thereupon, with a sign to the rest of his family to 
follow his example, he fell to eating with an appetite 
that did not belie his statement. 

“Monsieur,” leisurely began the unknown, amid the 
clattering of knives and forks, which each did his best 
to subdue, that he might not lose a word of the conver- 
sation about to follow, — “monsieur, you must already 
have discovered, from my accent, that I am a foreigner.” 

“Indeed,” remarked the president, with his mouth 
full, “ you have something of an English accent.” 

“ True, monsieur, and your usual clearsightedness is 
not at fault in my case. I was horn in Scotland; I 
should he still there, had not an occurrence, which it 
is unnecessary for me to relate, compelled me to visit 
Prance. One of my fellow-countrymen, a fervent dis- 
ciple of Knox — ” 

“ An English heretic, was he not, monsieur ? ” queried 
President Minard, pouring for himself a glassful of 
Burgundy. 

“And my beloved master,” responded the unknown, 
inclining his head. 

Monsieur Minard glanced around at his company with 


THE BIRTHDAY OF PRESIDENT MINARD. 73 


an air that plainly said, “Listen, my friends, and you 
will hear some fine discourse! ” 

Kohert Stuart continued : — 

“ One of my fellow-countrymen, an ardent follower of 
Knox, happened, a few days ago, to he at a house which 
I myself frequent; he there heard talk about sentencing 
the councillor, Anne Dubourg, to death.” 

The young man’s voice trembled as he uttered these 
last words, and his face, already pale, blanched whiter 
still. 

He continued, nevertheless, his voice no longer seem- 
ing to share the emotion expressed by his change of 
countenance; yet, as he felt every one’s gaze to be fixed 
upon him, he said, — 

“ My compatriot, on the mere mention of Anne 
Dubourg’s name, paled visibly, as I am doing perhaps 
at this moment, and he sought to learn from the persons 
who were discussing the sentence if it were possible that 
parliament would commit such an injustice.” 

“ Monsieur,” cried the president, who was nearly 
strangled by his food upon hearing such an unusual 
speech, “ you must be ignorant of the fact that you are 
speaking to a member of parliament; is it not sol ” 

“Pardon me, monsieur,” responded the Scotchman, 

“ it was my compatriot who thus expressed himself; he, 
pray observe, was addressing, not a member of parlia- 
ment, but simply a clerk of parliament, Julien Fresne 
by name , who was assassinated yesterday. Julien Fresne 
was then so imprudent as to say, in the presence of my 
fellow-countryman, — 

“ ‘ I have m my pocket a letter from Monseigneur le 
Due de Guise, in which Monsieur le Due enjoins the 
king’s parliament to make an end of the said Anne 
Dubourg, and despatch him quickly.’ 


74 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“Upon hearing those words, my countryman shud- 
dered, and from pale, as he had been, he became livid. 
He arose, approached Julien Fresne, and used every 
imaginable entreaty to prevent his delivering that letter, 
pointing out the fact that if Anne Duhourg was con- 
demned, a share of the blame of this councillor’s death 
would fall on him; hut Julien Fresne was inexorable. 

“ My countryman took his leave, and went to await the 
clerk’s departure from the house; thereupon, after per- 
mitting him to proceed a short distance, he overtook him, 

“‘Julien Fresne,’ he said, in low tones and with 
infinite gentleness, hut also with great firmness, ‘ I will 
grant you one whole night for reflection; hut if to- 
morrow, hy this hour, you have accomplished your pur- 
pose or have not abandoned it, you shall die ! ’ ” 

“ Oh! oh! ” ejaculated the president. 

“ ‘ And likewise,’ continued the Scotchman, ‘ shall die 
every man, far and near, that has a hand in the death 
of Anne Duhourg.’ ” 

Monsieur Minard shuddered, for it was impossible to 
divine, from the phrasing of this speech, whether these ^ 
last words had been addressed to Julien Fresne by the 
Scotchman’s fellow-countryman, or were aimed directly 
at Monsieur Minard. 

“Why, your fellow-countryman is a brigand ^ mon- 
sieur! ” he declared to Eobert Stuart, on observing that 
his family were awaiting only a word from him to give 
vent to their indignation. 

“An out-and-out brigand! a miserable brigand!^* 
cried the relatives in chorus. 

“ Monsieur,” returned the young man, quite unmoved, 

“ I am a Scotchman, and I do not grasp the full import 
of the word you have just employed and your worthy 
relatives have repeated after you; therefore, I continue.” 


THE BIRTHDAY OF PRESIDENT MINARD. 75 

And bowing to the relatives, who returned his salute, 
although with visible reluctance, he continued, — 

“ My fellow-countryman returned to his lodgings, 
and, being unable to sleep, he arose and walked up and 
down before the house of Julien Fresne. 

“ He continued his promenade during the whole of 
that night and all of the next morning; he walked there 
until three o’clock in the afternoon without eating or 
drinking, sustained, as he was, by his determination to 
keep his word to Julien Fresne; for,” continued the 
Scotchman by way of parenthesis, “while my country- 
men may be brigands^ Monsieur Minard, they possess 
the merit of never failing to keep their word when once 
it is given. 

“Finally, at three o’clock, Julien Fresne emerged; 
my countryman followed him, and finding that he was 
bound for the palace, intercepted him at the corner of 
the bridge of Hotre Dame, and said, — 

“ ‘ Julien Fresne, have you reflected? ’ 

“ Julien Fresne grew very pale : the Scotchman seemed 
to have risen out of the ground, and he wore a most 
threatening aspect; hut, to do the worthy clerk justice, 
he replied distinctly, — 

“ ‘Yes, I have reflected; but the result of my reflec- 
tion is that I must execute the order given me by 
Monsieur le Due de Guise.’ 

“ ‘ Monsieur de Guise is not your master, that he 
should give you orders,’ returned the Scotchman. 

“ ‘ Monsieur de Guise is not only my master,’ replied 
the clerk, ‘ but, what is more, he is the master of 
France. ’ 

How is that? ’ 

“ ‘ Are you not aware, monsieur, that the Due de 
Guise is the real king of the realm? ’ 


76 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


“ ‘ Monsieur/ said my compatriot, ‘ a political dis- 
cussion on this subject would lead us too far; I in no 
degree share your sentiments, and I return to the ques- 
tion that I put to you yesterday evening : Do you still 
intend to carry this letter to the parliament? ’ 

“ ‘ I am going there for that purpose. ’ 

“ ‘ Consequently, you have it about you? ’ 

“ ‘ I have it with me. ’ 

In the name of the living God,’ cried my friend, 

‘ I charge you to renounce your purpose of taking this 
letter to the executioners of Anne Duhourg! ’ 

“ ^In five minutes it will be in their hands.’ 

“And Julien Fresne put out his arm to thrust my 
friend aside. 

“ ‘Well, since you will have it so,’ cried the latter, 

‘ neither you nor your letter shall reach the palace, 
Julien Fresne.’ 

“ And drawing a pistol from under his cloak, he fired 
at Julien Fresne, who fell stone dead on the pavement; 
then, seizing the letter, the cause of the murder, my 
fellow-countryman went his way with an easy con- * 
science; he had hut killed a wretch in his efforts to 
save an innocent man.” 

It was the president’s turn to change color; his purple 
faded to yellow and green. A thousand drops of per- 
spiration beaded his forehead. 

The profoundest silence brooded over the entire 
company. 

“ The heat is stifling here, ” remarked Monsieur 
Minard, turning alternately toward the two ends of the 
table. “Don’t you find it so, my friends?” 

Some one rose to open a window ; hut the Scotchman 
signed with both hands for all to keep their seats. 

“ Do not disturb yourselves, messieurs,” said he. “ I 


THE BIRTHDAY OF PRESIDENT MINARD. 77 

am not eating, — I will open the window and give Mon- 
sieur le President some air; but, as a draught would be 
bad for him,” he added, having, in fact, opened the 
window, “ I will close the door.” 

And giving the key in the door a turn he returned 
to his post opposite President Minard. 

But, in executing the necessary movements, the 
Scotchman’s cloak was brushed aside, and it could be 
seen that he wore underneath the cloak a coat of mail 
of linked steel as defensive armor, with two pistols in 
his belt and a short sword at his side as weapons of 
assault. 

He appeared in nowise apprehensive as to what might 
or might not be seen, and as he resumed his place 
opposite to the president, from whom he was separated 
only by the width of the table, he asked, — 

“ Well, my dear Monsieur Minard, how do you 
feel ? ” 

“ A little better,” replied the latter, much against his 
will. 

“I am very glad of it, believe me,” continued the 
young man. 

And he resumed his narrative amidst a silence in 
which you could have heard a fly on the wing, had 
there been any flies in December other than the spies of 
Monsieur de Mouchy.^ 

1 A play on the word mouche, which means both “ fly ” and 
police-spy.” — Tr. 


78 


THE HOKOSCOPE. 


VII. 

PRESIDENT MINARd’s BIRTHDAY GIFT. 

As we said in the foregoing chapter, the young man 
resumed his narrative where he had left off: — 

“ My countryman took the despatch, and, fearing pur- 
suit, he fled through Grand-Eue-Montmartre, and gained 
the deserted quarter of the Grange-Bateliere , where he 
could read at his leisure the despatch from Monsieur le 
Due de Guise. Then only did he discover, as I myself 
discovered upon reading it, that the despatch from the 
Due de Guise served only as a cover to an ordinance of 
King Francois II., as you yourselves will see, mes- 
sieurs, when I have acquainted you with the contents 
of that letter; for, the missive being unsealed, my 
friend believed it justiflable that he should learn exactly^ 
whence it came, and to whom it was addressed, that he 
might himself, if he saw fit, deliver it to its address, 
with all the respect due to its subscriber.” 

Then, a second time, the Scotchman drew the parch- 
ment from his breast, unfolded it, and read as follows: 

To our well-beloved and faithful, the President of the court of the 
Parliament of Paris, the advocates and attorneys of the court 
aforesaid ; — 
in the King’s name, 

Well-beloved and faithful, we are greatly displeased to 
behold such sloth in the prosecution and despatch of the 
trial pending in our court of parliament against the council- 
lors held on a question of religion, and especially against 
the Councillor Dubourg ; and we desire that it be brought to 


PRESIDENT MINARD’S BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


79 


a speedy end. For which reason we put to this our hand and 
enjoin upon you very expressly that, every other matter 
being set aside, you do proceed forthwith, and expedite and 
conduct the trial of said suits, with the quorum of judges 
which has been and shall be advised by our said court, nor 
suffer nor allow them to be prolonged in greater tediousness, 
to the end that we may have other and greater cause for 
satisfaction than we have had hitherto. 

Signed : Francois. 

And, underneath: Laubespine. 

“ What, monsieur! ” cried President Minard, growing 
valiant again during the reading of this letter, which so 
thoroughly justified the sentence that he had just passed, 
“ have you detained such a letter in your possession 
since morning ? ” 

“ Since four o’clock in the afternoon of yesterday, 
monsieur; in the interests of truth, allow me to correct 
your impression.” 

“ Have you kept such a letter in your possession since 
four o’clock in the afternoon of yesterday,” resumed the 
president with the same intonation, “ and delayed its 
delivery until this hour ? ” 

“ I repeat, monsieur,” said the young man, re-install- 
ing the letter in his doublet, “ that you are still ignorant 
as to the price I have paid for the letter, and of the 
terms on which I shall be willing to part with it.” 

“Then speak out,” said the president, “and state 
what you desire in the way of reward for a deed which 
is, however, merely an act of simple duty.” 

“It is not so simple a duty as you suppose, mon- 
sieur,” replied the young man; “ the same reason which 
led my countryman to desire that this document should 
not reach parliament still holds good, and, whether 
Councillor Anne Dubourg is so near and dear to my 


80 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


friend that his death would he a great personal grief, or 
whether the injustice of parliament has seemed to him 
an odious crime and his retention of the letter was 
actuated only by the desire of any honest man to pre- 
vent the perpetration of an infamous act, or, at least, to 
delay it if he could not actually prevent it, he has in 
either case taken an oath that he would deliver the 
letter only when he should he assured of the acquittal 
of Anne Duhourg, and, what is more, that he would 
take the lives of all who stood in the way of his 
acquittal. It was for this reason he killed Julien 
Fresne ; not that he could hold a being so insignificant 
as a clerk responsible, hut, by his death, he wished to 
prove to some in loftier places than Julien Fresne ’s, 
that, as he had not hesitated at a petty existence, he 
would not hesitate at the lives of the great.” 

Here the president was strongly tempted to have the 
second window opened; every hair of his blonde wig 
was dripping with perspiration, as a willow branch 
drips with rain after the storm ; but regarding it as an 
insufficient remedy for his indisposition, he contented! 
himself with casting distracted glances around the table, 
his eye seeking advice from one and another as to what 
course he should pursue with respect to this Scotchman 
who possessed such a bloodthirsty friend ; hut the 
guests, not comprehending Monsieur Minard’s panto- 
mime, or refusing to comprehend for fear of calling down 
upon their heads a whole legion of Scotchmen, the 
guests, we say, lowered their eyes and maintained pro- 
found silence. 

Yet a president of parliament, the man who had 
just been proclaimed the mainstay of the faith and the 
greatest statesman of France, could not let such threats 
pass unanswered; hut what answer could he make? If 


PRESIDENT MINARD’s BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


81 


he rose and went around the table, and, contrary to his 
usually pacific habit, prepared to apprehend that threat- 
ening Scot, he ran the risk of the latter’s suspecting 
his design and drawing his sword from its sheath, or 
snatching the pistol from his belt; this could not fail 
to happen, judging from the determined expression of 
the Scotchman’s visage. Now, if the idea of assailing 
his guest — a most disagreeable guest, we admit — flitted 
across the mind of President Minard, it passed away as 
swiftly as a cloud scudding before the wind, and that 
clear mind, if ever one was clear, saw from the very 
start that, in carrying out such a resolution, he had all 
to lose and very little to gain. 

Now, among the things to lose, there was life, which 
was very sweet to this good President Minard, and he 
intended to preserve it as long as possible. He cast 
about, then, for an expedient by which to extricate 
himself from this embarrassing encounter, in which his 
instinct told him he had so much to fear that, avaricious 
as he was, he would have given fifty golden crowns to 
have had that accursed Scotchman on the other side of 
the door, instead of having him merely at the other side 
of the table. The expedient resolved upon was to deal 
with his unbidden guest as some people deal with fero- 
cious dogs, that is, to cajole and to flatter him. With 
this determination, then, he appealed to the young man 
in accents which he endeavored to render sportive. 

“Now, monsieur,” said he, “from your mode of 
expression, from your face so full of intelligence, from 
your distinguished bearing, I can assume, without fear 
of mistake, that you are no ordinary person, and I will 
say even more, — that you reveal yourself to be a gentle- 
man of good family.” 

The Scot bowed, but did not answer. 

6 


82 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ Well,” pursued the president, “ since I am speaking 
to a gentleman, and not to a fanatic,” — he felt a great 
desire to say, “ and not to an assassin like your com- 
patriot,” but prudence, habitual to gentlemen of the 
long robe, prevented him, — “and not to a fanatic like 
your compatriot, permit me to say that no one man, from 
his single standpoint, has a right to condemn the actions 
of his fellowmen. Numerous considerations may lead 
him astray, and it is even because no one can judge of 
bis own case that tribunals have been instituted. I 
admit, then, young man, that your countryman may 
have been perfectly conscientious in doing as he has 
done; but you will agree with me that, if each had 
the right of exercising jurisdiction, it would not be 
rational, — supposing, for example (it is but a supposi- 
tion), that' you share the opinions of your fellow- 
countryman, — it would not be rational for you, a 
well-bred, cool-headed man, to come here in the midst 
of my family and take my life, on the pretext that you 
do not approve of the condemnation of Councillor 
Dubourg. ” 

“Monsieur le President,” said the Scot, who, during 
this parleying speech, detected the faintheartedness of 
Maitre Minard peeping through, — “ Monsieur le Presi- 
dent, permit me, as they say in parliament, to call you 
back to the question, just as if, instead of being presi- 
dent, you were a simple attorney.” 

“ But, on the contrary, I am speaking to the question, 
it seems to me; we are even in open debate,” replied 
Minard, regaining some of his assurance the moment 
that the dialogue assumed a form habitual with him. 

“Excuse me, monsieur,” retorted the Scotchman, 
“ you appeal to me directly, and until now there has 
been no question of me ; my friend alone is under dis- 


PKESIDENT MINAED’s BIETIIDAY GIFT. 


83 


cussion, since it is not in my own behalf, but in my 
friend’s, that I have come to ask that you answer this 
question : ‘ Monsieur le President Minard, do you think 
Monsieur le Conseiller Dubourg must be sentenced to 
death r” 

The answer was very simple, since Councillor Dubourg 
had been sentenced to death an hour before, and Presi- 
dent Minard had already received his kinsmen’s con- 
gratulations upon the subject. 

But, as Maitre Minard believed that, on his frankly 
confessing the existence of such a sentence, — a sen- 
tence, moreover, which would not be made known until 
the morrow, — he would receive from the Scotchman 
something else than congratulations, he continued to 
pursue the course he had deemed it prudent to adopt. 

“ What answer can you expect from me, monsieur? ” 
he asked. “ I could not give you the opinion of my 
colleagues; I could at best give you but mine.” 

“Monsieur le President,” said the Scotchman, “I 
hold your personal opinion in such high esteem that I 
do not ask for that of your colleagues, but for your own.” 

“ Of what service can it be to you ? ” demanded the 
president, continuing to temporize. 

“To know it will be of service to me,” returned the 
Scotchman, who seemed determined to treat Maitre 
Minard as the dog treats the hare, and follow him in 
all his doublings until he was run down. 

Mon Dieu^ monsieur,” said the president, forced to 
be explicit, “ my opinion on the issue of the procedure 
was formed long ago. ” 

The young man steadily regarded Monsieur Minard, 
who, in spite of himself, lowered his eyes and slowly 
continued, as if he comprehended the necessity of weigh- 
ing every word. 


84 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ Certainly,” he said, “ it is to be regretted that a 
man should be sentenced to death who, along with other 
claims, must have merited public esteem, — a colleague, 
almost a friend; but you yourself see by this, the king’s 
letter patent, the court of justice awaits but the termi- 
nation of this unfortunate trial to take breath and pass 
on to others. It must end, therefore, and I doubt not 
that if parliament had received His Majesty’s communi- 
cation yesterday, the poor unfortunate councillor whom I 
am obliged to condemn as a heretic, but whom I regret 
as a man most sincerely, would have suffered his pen- 
alty to-day, or have been very near doing so.” 

“Ah! then my friend’s having killed Julien Fresne 
yesterday was an advantage ? ” said the Scotchman. 

“Not a great one,” replied the president; “it will 
cause a delay, that is all.” 

“ But, after all, a day’s delay is at least twenty-four 
hours’ respite accorded to an innocent man, and in 
twenty-four hours many things may change.” 

“ Monsieur,” said President Minard, who, little by 
little, in his character of the old advocate, was regain- 
ing his composure in the discussion, “you always speak 
of Councillor Dubourg as an innocent man.” 

“I speak from God’s point of view, monsieur,” re- 
turned the Scot, his finger impressively pointing to 
heaven. 

“Yes,” said the president; “ hut from man’s point of 
view ? ” 

“Think you, Maitre Minard,” demanded the Scot, 
“ that even from man’s point of view the proceedings 
can be considered quite fair ? ” 

“ Three bishops have condemned him, monsieur ; three 
bishops have rendered the same decision, — three con- 
formable decisions. ” 


PRESIDENT MINARD’s BIRTHDAY GIFT. 85 

“Were not those bishops judges and prosecutors at 
once in the case ? ” 

“Perhaps, monsieur; but how is a Huguenot to ad- 
dress Catholic bishops ? ” 

“ Whom would you have him address, monsieur? 

“It is a very grave question,” said Maitre Minard, 
“ and bristles with difficulties. ” 

“ And so parliament has resolved to settle it. ” 

“ You have said it, monsieur,” assented the president. 

“Well, monsieur, my countryman was under the 
impression that to you belonged the glory of the 
conviction.” 

At this remark the president felt so ashamed of draw- 
ing back before one man, when he had just boasted in 
the presence of ten others of having secured the verdict 
in question, that after glancing around interrogatively 
at his kinsmen, and apparently gathering a degree of 
courage from their looks, he said , — 

“ Monsieur, truth forces me to acknowledge that, in 
this matter, I have in fact sacrificed to duty the very 
tender and very genuine friendship that I bore to my 
colleague, Dubourg.” 

“ Ah ! ” exclaimed the Scot. 

“ Well, monsieur,” demanded Maitre Minard, who was 
beginning to lose patience , “ to what is that a prelude ? ” 

“ To the end, and we are near it.” 

“Come, what does it matter to your compatriot 
whether I have or have not influenced the decision of 
parliament ? ” 

“ It matters much to him.” 

“ In what way ? ” 

“ In this : my countryman assumes that, inasmuch as 
you have tied the knot, it is for you to untie it.” 

“ I do not understand,” faltered the president. 


86 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


“ It is very simple, however; instead of using your 
influence in favor of a conviction, use it in favor of an 
acquittal.” 

“ But,” interrupted one of the nephews, losing patience 
in turn, “ since your Councillor Anne Dubourg is 
already convicted, how do you suppose my uncle can 
now have him acquitted?” 

“Convicted!” cried the Scot; “did you, over there, 
say that Councillor Dubourg has been convicted ? ” 

The president cast a look of dismay at his indiscreet 
nephew. 

However, either the nephew did not see the look, or 
he did not heed it. 

“Eh! yes, convicted,” he said, — “convicted to-day, 
at two o’clock this afternoon — let me see, that is what 
you told us, uncle, or did I misunderstand? ” 

“You heard aright, monsieur,” said the Scot to the 
young man, taking the president’s silence for what it 
meant. 

Then, turning to Minard, he demanded, — 

“ So to-day, at two o’clock. Councillor Dubourg was 
sentenced. ” 

“ Yes, monsieur,” faltered Minard. 

“ But to what; to a fine ? ” 

Minard did not reply. 

“ To prison ? ” 

There was the same silence on the part of the 
president. 

At each question from the Scot his face whitened; at 
the last his lips were livid. 

“ To death ? ” he finally demanded. 

The president made a sign with his head. 

Although full of hesitancy, the sign was, neverthe- 
less, in the affirmative. 


PRESIDENT MINARD’S BIRTHDAY GIFT. 87 

‘‘Ah, well, so be it! ” said the Scot. “ After all, so 
long as a man is not dead, there is no occasion for 
despair; and, as my friend remarked, since you tied the 
knot, you can untie it.” 

“ How is that ? ” 

“ By seeking from the king a reversal of the judg- 
ment. ” 

“But, monsieur,” said Maitre Minard, who at every 
step he took in the matter seemed to stride across one 
chasm only to find himself on the brink of another, it 
is true, but who, each chasm cleared, became momen- 
tarily reassured, — “ but, monsieur, should I desire to 
pardon Anne Dubourg, the king would never consent 
to it.” 

“Why not? ” 

“ Why , because the letter you have read sufficiently 
indicates his desire.” 

“ Yes, apparently.” 

“ Why apparently ? ” 

“For this reason: that letter of the king’s was en- 
closed, as I have had the honor to tell you, in a letter 
from the Due de Guise. Well, this letter from the 
Due de Guise, which I have not read to you, I am about 
to read.” 

And the young man again drew the parchment from 
his breast; but this time, instead of reading the king’s 
message, he read the letter of Frangois de Lorraine. 

It was couched in these terms : — 


Dear Brother, — Here at last is His Majesty’s mes- 
sage ; I have secured it from him with great difficulty, and 
I was almost obliged to guide his pen in order to get these 
eight wretched letters composing his name. There must be 
some ' unknown friend of this accursed heretic near His 


88 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


Majesty ; make haste, then, lest the king should revoke his 
decision, or, the councillor being condemned, should pardon 
him. 

Respectfully, your brother, 

Francois de Guise. 

f 

December 17, in the year of Our Lord 1559. 

The Scotchman raised his head. 

“ Have you understood, monsieur ? ” he demanded of 
the president. 

“ Perfectly.” 

“ Would you like me to read it again, lest some point 
may have escaped you 1 ” 

" It is unnecessary.” 

“ Would you like to assure yourself that it is indeed 
in the handwriting and bears the seal of the Lorraine 
prince ? ” 

“ I have perfect conlidence in you. ” 

“ Well, what is evident from that letter? ” 

“That the king hesitated to write, monsieur; but, in 
short, that the king did wwite.” 

“ But he wrote reluctantly; hence, if a man like you, 
for instance, Monsieur le President, should go to this 
crowned child who is called king, and say, ‘ Sire, we 
have condemned Councillor Dubourg for the sake of an 
example, but Your Majesty should pardon him for the 
sake of justice,’ the king, whose hand Monsieur de Guise 
was obliged to guide to make him write the eight letters 
of his name, would grant a pardon.” 

“ And if my conscience opposes my doing what you 
ask of me, monsieur?” said President Minard, with 
the evident intention of testing his ground. 

“I shall entreat you, monsieur, to call to mind the 
oath that my friend the Scotchman took upon killing 
Julien Fresne, to kill in like manner all, far or near. 


PRESIDENT MINARD’S BIRTHDAY GIFT. 89 

who should be implicated in the conviction of Councillor 
Dubourg.’’ 

At that moment, assuredly, the clerk’s shadow, like 
a shadow from a magic lantern, fell upon the dining- 
room wall; but of course the president did not turn his 
head to see it. 

“Ah! that is madness!” he responded to the young 
man. 

“ Madness! why so. Monsieur le President? ” 

“ Why, because you are threatening me, a magistrate, 
in my own house, in the bosom of my family.” 

“ It is that you may call up, out of consideration for 
your house and family, a sentiment of pity for yourself, 
which God has not placed in your heart for others.” 

“ It seems to me, monsieur, that instead of exhibit- 
ing penitence and offering me an apology, you continue 
to indulge in threats.” 

“ I have told you, monsieur, that the man who killed 
Julien Presne has sworn to kill every man who stands 
in the way of Anne Dubourg’s life and liberty, and 
that, lest his word should be doubted, he began with 
the clerk, less because he held the clerk culpable than 
because he desired by his death to give salutary warning 
to other enemies, however high their position. Will 
you ask the king for Anne Dubourg’s pardon? In my 
friend’s name, I demand an answer.” 

“ Ah ! do you demand an answer in the name of a 
murderer, in the name of an assassin, in the name of a 
thief? ” cried the exasperated president. 

“Understand, monsieur,” said the young man ,“ that 
you are at liberty to answer me or not.” 

“ Ah! I am at liberty to answer or not? ” 

“ Undoubtedly.” 

“Well, then, tell your Scotchman,” roared the presi- 


90 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


dent, beside himself at the very coolness with which 
he was interrogated, “ tell your Scotchman that there is 
one man, Antoine Minard by name, a president of the 
court of justice, who has vowed, on his part, that Anne 
Dubourg shall die ; that this president is as good as his 
word, and that he will prove it to-morrow. ” 

“ Well, monsieur,” replied Eobert Stuart, without a 
gesture or the display of a sign of emotion, and repeat- 
ing almost the very words that had just been spoken, 
“ know you that there is a Scotchman who has sworn 
that Monsieur Antoine Minard, a president of the court 
of justice, shall die; that this Scotchman is a man of 
his word, and will prove it to-day.” 

As he spoke the last words, Eobert Stuart passed his 
hand within his cloak and detached one of his pistols, 
cocking it noiselessly, and before any one could even 
dream of staying him, so swift had been his movement, 
he had aimed at Monsieur Minard across the table, that 
is, almost in his very face, and fired. 

Monsieur Minard fell over backwards, — he and his 
chair. He was dead. 

Any family other than the president’s would doubt- 
less have attempted to seize the assassin, but they were 
very far from doing so; each of the dead man’s guests 
thought only of his own safety: some fled into the 
pantry, shrieking in despair; others dived under the 
table, taking good care not to speak a word. It was a 
general rout, and Eobert Stuart, finding himself some- 
what lonely in this dining room, where all seemed to 
have disappeared through a trap door, retired slowly, 
after the manner of a lion, as Dante says, and without 
any man’s having the least thought in the world of 
detaining him. 


AT THE SIGN OF THE SCOTCH THISTLE. 91 


VIII. 

AT THE SIGN OF THE SCOTCH THISTLE. 

It was about eight o’clock in the evening when Robert 
Stuart left Maitre Minard’s, and, finding himself alone in 
the Vieille-Rue-du-Temple, — even more deserted after 
nightfall in those days than it now is, — he gave utter- 
ance to two significant words alluding to the men whom 
he had assassinated : — 

“ The second! ” 

He did not count the one on the banks of the Seine ; 
that one was accredited to the account of his friend 
Medard. 

Arriving opposite to the Hotel de Ville, — that is, at the 
Place de Greve, where the condemned were executed, — his 
eyes mechanically wandered to the spot where the gibbet 
was usually erected; then he approached the place. 

“ It is here, ” he muttered, “ that Anne Dubourg must 
undergo the penalty of his greatness, if the king does not 
pardon him. And how can the king be forced to pardon 
him ? ” added he. 

And with these words he went on. 

He turned into the Rue de la Tannerie and halted 
before a door over which creaked a sign bearing these 
words : — 

The Sword of Francois I. 

For a moment one might have supposed him to be 
about to enter, but suddenly he said, — 


92 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ It would be folly to enter the inn; within ten minutes 
the archers will be here. No, I will go to Patrick’s.” 

He swiftly crossed the Hue de la Tannerie and the 
bridge of Notre Dame, flung a passing glance at the spot 
where, on the morning before, he had killed Julien 
Presne, then, having cleared La Cite and the bridge of 
Saint Michel with rapid strides, he entered the Eue du 
Battoir-Saint- Andre. 

There, as in the Hue de la Tannerie, he paused before 
a house bearing a sign like the first, but its legend 
ran: — 

The Scotch Thistle. 

“ It is certainly here that Patrick Macpherson used to 
lodge,” he mused, raising his head to look for the win- 
dow. “ Up there, under the roof, he had a little room 
where he used to come on the days when he was not on 
guard at the Louvre.” 

He made every effort to catch a glimpse of the garret 
window, but the projecting roof-cornice prevented. 

Consequently he determined to push the door open, 
or, in case of its being locked, to knock with the pommel 
of his sword or the butt of his pistol, when suddenly the 
door swung back and gave egress to a man dressed in the 
uniform of the Scotch guard. 

“ Who goes there ? ” challenged the archer, almost 
running into the young man. 

“ ‘ A HieW mon, ’ ” answered our hero in the Scotch 
brogue. 

“ Oho ! Eobert Stuart ? ” cried the archer. 

“ It is even I, my dear Patrick. ” 

“ And what chance brings you into my street and to 
my door at this hour ? ” asked the archer, as he extended 
both hands to his friend. 


AT THE SIGN OF THE SCOTCH THISTLE. 93 


“ I have come to ask a favor, my dear Patrick.” 

“ Speak, but be quick about it ! ” 

“ Are you in a hurry ? ” 

“Much against my will; but, you know, it is roll-call 
at half-past nine at the Louvre, and nine o’clock has just 
sounded from the parish church of Saint Andre. Now, 
then, I am listening.” 

“ Here is the case, my dear friend. The last edict has 
driven me out of my inn.” 

“ Ah ! yes, I see : you are a Protestant, and must have 
two Catholic sureties.” 

“ I have no time to hunt them up, and perhaps I 
should not find them if I had it; now, I shall be 
arrested to-night if I am wandering about the streets of 
Paris. Will you let me share your room for two or 
three days ? ” 

“ For two or three nights, if you like, and for all the 
nights of the year, even, if that will serve you; hut as for 
the days, — that is another matter.” 

“ And why so, Patrick ? ” demanded Eobert. 

“ Because, ” returned the archer, bridling with vanity, 
“ since I last had the pleasure of seeing you, my dear 
Eobert, I have been so lucky as to make a conquest.” 

“ You, Patrick ? ” 

“ Does it surprise you ? ” inquired the archer, with a 
foppish air. 

“ By no means ; but it happens awkwardly, that is 
all.” 

Eobert seemed indisposed to push the subject further; 
but the vanity of his fellow-countryman did not take 
advantage of this discretion. 

“Yes, my friend,” he resumed, “the wife of a coun- 
cillor of parliament has very naturally done me the honor 
to fall in love with me, and from one day to another, my 


94 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


dear friend, I am expecting to have the pleasure of enter- 
taining her.” 

“ Diahle ! ” exclaimed Robert. “ Then consider that 
I have said nothing, Patrick.” 

“ But why ? Do you take my confidence for a refusal ? 
Grant that one day or another this virtuous dame, as 
Monsieur de Brantome says, consents to ascend to my 
attic, — and, observe, this is but a supposition, — you 
can then be off; otherwise, you remain with me as long 
as it shall be agreeable to you ; the matter could not be 
better arranged, you must acknowledge ! ” 

“ Really, my dear Patrick, ” said Robert, who was 
apparently very reluctant to give up his plan, “ I accept 
your offer with gratitude, and await only the opportunity 
to render you a service, whatever its nature may be.” 

“ Nonsense ! ” returned Patrick. “ Is gratitude to be 
spoken of between friends and fellow-countr 3 ’'men — be- 
tween Scotchmen ? It is as if — eh ! but wait, now! ” 

“ What is it ? ” asked Robert. 

“ Oh, an idea ! ” cried Patrick, as if struck by a sud- 
den thought. 

“ What is it ? Let us hear t ” 

“ My dear fellow,” said Patrick, “ you can do me a 
great favor.” 

“ A great favor ? ” 

“ An enormous favor. ” 

“ Speak ! I am at your disposal.” 

“Thanks! yet—” 

“ Proceed.” 

“ Do you think we are of the same height 1 ” 

“ Nearly.” 

“ Of the same size ? ” 

“ I think so.” 

“ Come into the moonlight; let me look at you.” 


AT THE SIGN OF THE SCOTCH THISTLE. 95 


Eobert did as bis friend requested. 

“ Do you know that you have on a magnificent 
doublet 'I ” continued Patrick, holding aside his friend’s 
mantle. 

“ Magnificent is not the word.” 

“ Quite new.” 

“ I bought it three days ago,” 

“ A trifle sober, it is true, ” mused Patrick ; “ but 
in that she will perceive my intent to escape obser- 
vation.” 

“ What are you driving at 1 ” 

“This, dear Eobert: while my lady-love views me 
with favor, her husband bestows upon me a very different 
regard. So different that, whenever he 'sees an archer 
of the guard pass along, he turns very sour looks upon 
him; and you can imagine what sort of regard I should 
attract if he were to see this uniform ascending his 
stairs.” 

“Indeed, I can imagine it marvellously well.” 

“ Now, the lady has advised me not to set foot in her 
house again dressed in my national costume. Conse- 
quently, ever since nightfall I have been puzzling over 
some honest means of gaining possession of a suit of 
clothes that could advantageously take the place of my 
own ; it seems to me that your costume, although a trifle 
sober, and perhaps even because of its color, should 
answer my purpose. Be so kind, then, as to lend it to me 
for to-morrow; I will so arrange matters as to have no 
need of it after that.” 

The Scotchman’s last words, betokening the perfect 
self-confidence his compatriots formerly possessed and yet 
retain, caused Eobert Stuart to smile. 

“ My raiment, my purse, my heart are yours, my dear 
friend,” returned he. “ Yet, mind you, I shall probably 


96 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


be going out myself to-morrow, and, in that case, my 
clothes will be almost a necessity to me.” 

“ Diahle!” 

“ Like the ancient philosopher, my back carries all my 
possessions. ” 

“ By Saint Dunstan, but that is vexatious! ” 

“ And I am in despair.” 

“ Because, really, the more I look at your doublet, the 
more it seems to have been made for me,” cried Patrick. 

“ Miraculously so, ” assented Bobert, who seemed bent 
on forcing his friend into making some suggestion. 

“ Is there then no way of encompassing the matter ? ” 

“ I see none ; but you are a man of expedients, — set 
yourself about it.” 

“ There is a way ! ” exclaimed Patrick. 

“ Name it.” 

“ Unless, that is, your mistress’s husband entertains 
the same horror of messieurs the archers of the Scotch 
Guard as does my mistress’s husband.” 

“ I have no mistress, Patrick, ” said Bobert, gravely. 

“ Well, then,” said the archer, who was merely pursu- 
ing the realization of his scheme, and was concerned 
about nothing else, “ in that case you must be indifferent 
as to your costume.” 

“ Quite indifferent, ” said the young man. 

“ Then, as I am taking your clothes, do you take mine.” 

This time Bobert Stuart repressed a smile. 

“ What do you mean ? ” he asked, as if he did not 
quite understand. 

“ You have no objection to donning the Scotch 
uniform 1 ” 

“None at all.” 

“ Well, if any imperious necessity compels you to go 
out, you can wear my uniform.” 


AT THE SIGN. OF THE SCOTCH THISTLE. 97 


“You are right; nothing, in fact, couhl be simpler.” 

“ Moreover, it carries with it the freedom of the 
Louvre.” 

Eohert thrilled with joy. “ The height of my ambi- 
tion, ” he remarked with a smile. 

. “ Very well; good-hy till to-morrow ! ” 

“ Till to-morrow ! ” returned Robert, taking his friend’s 
hand. 

Patrick detained him. 

“ You are forgetting something, ” said he. 

“What? ” 

“ True, it is not of much consequence, — the key of 
my room.” 

“ Faith, you are right, ” said Eohert. “ Give it to me ! ” 

“ There it is. Good-night, Robert ! ” 

“Good-night, Patrick!” 

And the' two young men, after again clasping hands, 
went each his separate way, Patrick to the Louvre, 
Robert to Patrick’s door. 

Let us leave the former to pursue his course to the 
Louvre, where he will be just in time to answer at the 
evening roll-call, and follow Robert Stuart, who, after 
having fumbled about two or three doors, at last found 
the key-hole of Patrick’s. 

The remains of a still blazing fagot quite illuminated 
the young guard’s room. It was a tidy retreat, rather 
like the small chambers of the students of our day. 

It was furnished with a bedstead well fitted up, a 
small chest of drawers, two straw-bottomed chairs, and 
a table upon which, in a little, long-necked earthen jar, 
the wick of a tallow candle was still smoking. 

Robert took a firebrand, and by dint of blowing suc- 
ceeded in eliciting a blaze, at which he lighted the candle. 

After that he seated himself at the little table, and 
7 


98 


THE HOKOSCOPE. 


burying his forehead in his hands fell to thinking 
deeply. 

“ I have it ! ” he said at last, passing his hand through 
his hair as if to relieve his head of some terrible weight. 
“ I have it, — I will write to the king. ” 

And he arose. 

On the mantel-piece he discovered a full inkstand and 
a pen ; but in vain he searched and rummaged the table 
drawer and the three drawers of the chest, — he found 
not so much as a shadow of paper or parchment. 

He renewed his search, but without success; his com- 
rade had, beyond doubt, used up his last leaf in writing 
to Madame la Conseillere. 

He sat down again in despair. 

“ Oh,” said he, “ shall I not, then, for want of a bit of 
paper, be able to try this last expedient ? ” 

In fact, ten o’clock was striking. The merchants in 
those days did not, as in ours, keep open doors until 
midnight; the difficulty therefore was real. 

Suddenly he remembered the king’s letter which he 
had with him; he drew it forth from his breast and re- 
solved to write to the king on the back of that sheet. 

He took down the pen and ink, and wrote the following 
letter ; — 

“ Sire, — The conviction of the councillor, Anne Dubourg, 
is iniquitous and ungodly. Your Majesty has been blinded, 
and made to spill the purest blood in the kingdom. 

“ Sire, a man cries to you from the midst of the multitude 
that you open your eyes and behold the blazing funeral piles 
that ambitious men are kindling around you all over France ! 

“ Sire, open your ears and hearken to the plaintive groans 
breathed forth on the Place de Greve, and rising toward 
the Louvre. 

“ See and hear, sire ! When you have seen and heard, 
surely you will pardon.” 


AT THE SIGN OF THE SCOTCH THISTLE. 99 


The Scotchman reread his letter and folded it in- 
versely, — that is, in such a manner that the front page 
on which the king’s letter was written became the back of 
his own letter to the king, and the back on which his 
letter was written preceded the page of the king’s 
letter. 

“ Now, ” he mused, “ how can I get this letter within 
the Louvre ? Shall I wait until to-morrow for Patrick ? 
That will be too late. Besides, poor Patrick would be 
arrested as my accomplice. I am already exposing him 
quite enough in accepting his hospitality. What shall 
I do?” 

He went to the window in search of an idea. In des- 
perate circumstances one consults exterior objects willingly 
enough. 

We have said that the day had been a magnificent one 
for December. 

Eobert sought counsel of the fresh air, the starry sky, 
the silent night, as to what was to be done. 

Prom Patrick’s attic window, at the very top of the 
house, he could see the towers of the king’s palace. 

The wooden tower erected at the end of the palace, 
nearly opposite to the Tour de Nesle, and uplifting itself 
between the river and the inner court of the Louvre, 
suddenly loomed up before him, magnificently outlined in 
the fantastic moonlight. 

At sight of this tower, Eobert seemed to discover the 
means he sought for getting his message to the king; 
for, returning the parchment to his breast, he extinguished 
the candle, put on his hat, wrapped himself in his man- 
tle, and quickly descended the stairs. 

An ordinance had been issued only a few days before, 
prohibiting all passengers and boatmen from crossing the 
Seine after five o’clock in the afternoon. 


100 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


It was ten o’clock in the evening ; hence to take a boat 
was not to be thought of. 

The only course possible for Robert was to retrace his 
steps and go back over the route he had taken in coming 
from the Greve. 

He went back then toward the bridge of Saint Michel, 
leaving the Rue de la Barillerie at his left so as not to 
encounter the palace sentinels, and, crossing the bridge 
of Notre Dame, he returned through the net-work of 
streets leading to the Louvre. 

The Louvre had been a litter of stones, gravel, and 
timbers ever since the reign of Francois I. 

It reminded one of the interior of a quarry, or of one 
of those unfinished palaces fallen in ruins before being 
completed, rather than of the residence of the king of 
France. 

It was therefore easy enough to steal along among the 
blocks of stone by which the Louvre was obstructed, 
without as well as within. 

From rock to rock, from ditch to ditch, skirting the 
bank of the Seine, Robert Stuart arrived within a hun- 
dred paces of the great front of the Louvre facing the 
river, which in extent covered all the space now occupied 
by the quay; he then followed the structure as far as the 
New Tower, and, seeing two lighted windows, he picked 
up from one of the ditches a stone, which he enveloped in 
the parchment, detached the cord from his hat, tied the 
parchment around the stone, and, retreating two or three 
steps to gain impetus, he calculated the distance, taking 
aim as if about to throw a ball, and flung both stone and 
parchment through one of the lighted windows of the 
first story. 

The sound of breaking glass and the stir that ensued 
in the room immediately after the crash, assured him 


AT THE SIGN OF THE SCOTCH THISTLE. 101 


that his missive had made its way, and that if it failed 
to reach the king it would not he for want of messengers. 

“ Capital,” he said. “ And now, let us wait; we shall 
certainly know by to-morrow whether my letter has 
produced any effect.” 

As he withdrew, he looked about on all sides to assure 
himself that he had not been observed, and saw only the 
sentinels in the distance walking with the sentinel’s slow 
and measured tread. 

Evidently the sentinels had remarked nothing. 

Robert Stuart then regained the Rue de Battoir-Saint- 
Andre by the same route over which he had come, con- 
vinced that he had been neither seen nor heard by any 
one. 

He was deceived : he had been seen and heard by two 
men, who, at about fifty paces from him in one of the 
angles of the Hew Tower, hidden in its shadow, were 
conversing with such animation as not to see and hear, 
or at least to give no sign of so doing. 

These two personages were the Prince de Conde and 
the Admiral de Coligny. 

Let us say what topic of conversation could engross 
these two illustrious personages to such a degree that they 
did not appear to be concerned about the stones that 
were flung through the windows of the Louvre at that 
advanced hour of the night. 


102 


THE HOKOSCOPE. 


IX. 


AT THE FOOT OF THE NEW TOWER. 

“ Xow,” says Braiitome, in his book of the “ Capitaines 
Illustres,” “ we are about to speak of a mighty captain, 
if ever was one.” 

We say with Brantome; only, let us he more just 
toward Gaspard de Coligny, Seigneur de Chatillon, 
than was the courtier of the Guises. 

In two other books of ours we have already dwelt . 
upon the illustrious defender of Saint Quentin ; but our 
readers may have forgotten “ Marguerite de Valois,” and 
they may not yet be familiar with “ The Page of the 
Duke of Savoy.” We deem it necessary, therefore, to 
say a few words as to the birth, family, and antecedents, 
as they say to-day, of the Admiral. 

We italicize this word because it was rare, indeed, 
that he was spoken of by the name of Gaspard de 
Coligny, or was styled Seigneur de ChMillon, his title 
of “ admiral ” having prevailed. 

Gaspard de Coligny was born on the seventh day of 
February, 1517, at Chatillon-sur-Loing, the seigniorial 
residence of his family. 

His father, a nobleman of Bresse, had established 
himself in France after his province was annexed to the 
kingdom; he occupied a high rank in the king’s army, 
and took the name of Chatillon, having become the 
proprietor of that seigniory. 

He had espoused Louise de Montmorency, sister of 
the constable, whom we have very often had occasion 


AT THE FOOT OF THE NEW TOWER. 


103 


to mention, and particularly in “ Ascanio,” “The Two 
Dianas,” and “ The Page of the Duke of Savoy.” 

The four sons of the Seigneur de Chatillon — Pierre, 
Odet, Gaspard, and Dan delot — were, therefore, the con- 
stable’s nephews. The first, Pierre, died at five years 
of age ; the second , Odet, was then looked upon as des- 
tined to uphold the honor of the name. 

Twenty years later a cardinal’s hat was at the dis- 
posal of the constable. None of his own sons desired 
it; he then offered it to his sister’s sons: Gaspard and 
Dan delot, both possessed of warlike temperaments, re- 
fused the gift; Odet, of a quiet and contemplative 
nature, accepted it. 

Gaspard then found himself the head of the family, 
especially as his father had been dead since the year 
1522. 

We have elsewhere related how his early exploits 
had been achieved in the companionship of Francois de 
Guise, and what friendship bound these two young 
people together up to the time when, in connection 
with the battle of Kenty, in which each had won great 
distinction for valor, a coolness intervened between 
them. The Due Claude de Lorraine being dead, and 
the Due Franqois and his brother the cardinal having 
placed themselves at the head of the Catholic party and 
seized upon the affairs of state, the coldness turned to 
hatred outright. 

During this time, in spite of his hatred of the Guises, 
young Gaspard de Chfitillon had become one of the most 
distinguished men of his time, and had sprung into 
fame and renown. Dubbed knight by the Due d’En- 
ghien, as was his brother Dandelot, and that, too, on 
the very battlefield of Cerisoles, where each had captured 
a flag, he had been made colonel in 1544, and, three 


104 


THE HOROSCOPE. 

years later, colonel-general of the infantry, and finally 
admiral. 

It was then he resigned the post of colonel-general in 
favor of his brother Dandelot, whom he dearly loved, 
and who dearly loved him. 

About the year 1545 the two brothers wedded two 
daughters of the noble Breton house of Laval. 

In “ The Page of the Luke of Savoy ” the admiral 
will be found at the siege of Saint Quentin, and it will 
be seen with what admirable faithfulness he defended 
the town, stone by stone, and was taken at the final 
assault, weapons in hand. 

It was during his captivity at Antwerp that, a Bible 
having fallen into his hands, he changed his religion. 

For six months his brother Dandelot had already been 
a Calvinist. 

The admiral’s importance naturally pointed him out 
as the military leader of the reformed religion. 

However, as there had as yet been no rupture between 
the two parties, and but few persecutions, Dandelot and 
his brother occupied at court the position to which the 
rank of each entitled him. 

“But,” says a historian of that day, “the court had 
not a more formidable enemy.” 

Gifted with extraordinary coolness, courage, and in- 
sight, 'he seemed born to become, what he in fact became, 
the real leader of the Calvinist party. He possessed 
both perseverance and indomitable energy, and although 
often vanquished he nearly always became more for- 
midable after his defeats than his enemies after their 
victories. 

Counting his rank as nothing, and his life for so 
little that he was ready at all times to sacrifice it in 
the defence of the realm or for the triumph of his faith, 


AT THE FOOT OF THE NEW TOWER. 105 


he added to a warlike genius the solid virtues of the 
greatest citizens. 

During those stormy times the sight of that unruffled 
brow was restful to the eyes; it resembled the great oaks 
that stand upright amid the tempests; it was like the 
lofty mountains whose crests remain undisturbed amid 
the storms, because they are above the lightnings. 

That oak’s rugous bark the rain will not harm, the 
wind will not bow its head; to uproot it will require 
the hurricane that sweeps away all. 

That mountain will become a volcano, and at every 
eruption the throne will tremble, shaken almost to its 
very foundation; and to destroy the crater, to stanch 
the lava, there must occur one of those great cataclysms 
that change the face of empires. 

And the Prince de Conde, an active, enterprising, 
and ambitious genius, will support him in battle after 
battle with the king’s armies for the period of ten 
years. 

As we have said, the Prince de Conde was talking 
with the admiral. With this illustrious young man, 
Coligny , lost in the shadow outlined by the New Tower, 
was conversing on that night between the eighteenth 
and the nineteenth of December. 

By sight, at least, we know the Prince de Conde; 
we saw him enter the Bed Horse Inn, and from a few 
remarks made by him we were able to form some esti- 
mate of his character. 

Permit us to give a few details, which we deem in- 
dispensable, as to his character and the position held by 
the prince at court. 

Monsieur de Conde had not yet given proof of what 
he was; but one felt a presentiment of what he might 
be, and this presentiment foreshadowed great importance 


106 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


for the handsome young man, known until that time 
chiefly for his follies and fickle amours, and who, like 
his contemporary, Don Juan, had enrolled in his vast 
catalogue the names of the most renowned ladies of the 
court. 

He was twenty-nine years of age at that time, we 
think we have said. He was the fifth and last son of 
Charles of Bourbon, Comte de Vendome, the modern 
stock of all the branches of the house of Bourbon. 

His elder brothers were Antoine de Bourbon, King 
of Navarre and father of Henri IV. ; EranQois, Comte 
d’Enghien; Cardinal Charles de Bourbon, Archbishop 
of Eouen; and Jean, Comte d’Enghien, who had been 
killed only two years previously in the battle of Saint 
Quentin. 

Louis de Conde, therefore, was at this time but a 
younger son, whose entire fortune consisted of his cloak 
and sword. 

And the sword, moreover, was of greater value than 
the cloak. 

That sword the prince had gloriously drawn in the 
wars of Henri II., as well as in a few private quarrels, 
which had gained him a reputation for courage almost 
equal to that he had acquired for luck, and especially 
for inconstancy, in love. 

This axiom seemed to have been made purposely for 
the Prince de Conde: “ Possession slays love.” 

When once the prince possessed, he loved no longer. 

This was very well known among the Belles Dames 
whose gallant history Brantome has given us, and yet, 
strange to say, it did not appear to damage in their eyes 
the young prince, who was so loving, so gay, that some 
one made him the subject of the following quatrain in 
the form of a prayer : — 


AT THE FOOT OF THE NEW TOWER. 107 


“ Ce petit homme tant joli, 

Qui ton jours chante et tou jours rit, 

Qui toujours baise sa niignonne, 

Dieu gard’ de mal le petit homme ! ” 

As may be seen, the intention of the poet who origi- 
nated these four lines was better than his verse; yet, 
as they convey a sufficiently exact idea of the sentiment 
of sympathy inspired at court by Louis de Conde, we 
venture to quote them. 

Besides, our book is signed Alexandre Dumas, — not 
Bichelet. 

Between the admiral and the young prince this sym- 
pathy was strong: still young, being forty-two years of 
age, the admiral loved Louis de Conde as he might have 
loved one of his own young brothers; and, on his side, 
the Prince de Conde, of a chivalric and adventurous 
temperament, naturally much more given to studying 
the mysteries of love than to troubling himself over the 
triumphs and defeats of religion, careless Catholic as he 
was at that time, — the Prince de Conde, like a pupil 
with a beloved master, listened to the serious admiral , 
while his eye followed the gallop of a beautiful amazon 
returning from the chase, or the ditty of a maiden on 
her way from the fields. 

Now, this is what had happened an hour before. 

The admiral, on coming out of the Louvre, where he 
had been paying his court to the young king, had, with 
the eye of a captain trained to the darkness, distin- 
guished at the foot of the New Tower a man, who, 
enveloped in a mantle and his head raised toward a 
balcony that overhung two lighted windows, seemed to 
be waiting either to receive a signal or to give one. 
The admiral, not naturally curious, was proceeding 
toward the Eue de Bethisy, in which he lived, when 


108 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


it occurred to him that hut one man could have the 
hardihood to stand in front of the king’s palace, within 
a hundred yards of the sentinels, at an hour when all 
passers-by were usually arrested ' if they in the least 
approached the Louvre, and that this man must he the 
Prince de Conde. 

He went toward him, and as the man, the nearer the 
admiral approached, shrank hack as far as possible into 
the shadow, when within twenty paces he called out to 
him, — 

“ Hey ! Prince ! ” 

“ Who is it? ” demanded the Prince de Conde; for it 
was he, in fact. 

“A friend,” answered the admiral, continuing to 
advance, and smiling at the fact that his acuteness had 
this time, as ever, divined aright. 

“ Aha ! that voice belongs to the admiral, if I mistake 
not,” said the prince, advancing a few steps to join the 
person who had accosted him. 

The two men met at the verge of the shadow; the 
first drew the admiral toward him, so that both stood 
in the gloom. 

“How the devil,” asked the prince, after having 
affectionately, and with an air of respect, pressed the 
admiral’s hand, — “how did you know that I was 
here ? ” 

“I guessed it,” said the admiral. 

“Ah! it was well ^ par exemple ! How did 

you go about it ? ” 

“ Oh, very simply I ” 

“ Come, let us hear. ” 

“ Seeing a man here within range of the sentinels, I 
told myself that there was hut one knight in France 
capable of risking his life for the sake of seeing the 


AT THE FOOT OF THE NEW TOWER. 109 

wind toss the curtain of a pretty woman’s window, and 
that that man was Your Highness.” 

“My dear admiral, permit me, first of all, to thank 
you for the excellent opinion you entertain of me, and, 
next, to pay you a very sincere compliment. More 
wonderful sagacity than yours it were impossible to 
possess.” 

“ Ah ! ” exclaimed the admiral. 

“ I am, in fact, watching the window of a room where 
dwells, not a pretty woman, — since she who draws me 
here was, six months ago, still a child, and is to-day 
barely a girl, — but a bewitching being of matchless 
beauty. ” 

“ You are speaking of Mademoiselle de Saint Andre,” 
remarked the admiral. 

“Precisely. Better and better, my dear admiral,” 
rejoined the prince; “ and that leads me to explain the 
motive that has impelled me to take you into my 
confidence.” 

“ Then you are impelled by a motive ? ” inquired 
the admiral, laughing. 

“ Yes, and a tremendous one.” 

“ What was it? Make me your confidant, prince.” 

“ It was that, if I did not have you for a friend. Mon- 
sieur I’Amiral, I should perhaps have you for an enemy, 
and in that case I should have an invincible enemy.” 

The admiral shook his head at this fiattery, emanating 
from a man whom he was on the point of reproaching, 
and contented himself with saying, — 

“You are doubtless ignorant, prince, that Mademoi- 
selle de Saint Andre is affianced to Monsieur de Join- 
ville, the eldest son of the Due de Guise.” 

“ Not only am I not ignorant of the fact. Monsieur 
PAmiral, but, worse still, it was on learning the news 


110 


THE HOKOSCOPE. 


of the match that I fell madly in love with Mademoiselle 
de Saint Andre; consequently, I can boldly state that 
my love for Mademoiselle de Saint Andre arises chiefly 
from my hatred of the Guises.” 

“ Well! well! hut this is the first time, prince, that 
I have heard this amour spoken of; your love afiairs 
usually sing on the wing like the lark. This, then, is 
a new-born passion, since it has as yet made no stir.” 

“ Not so new, my dear admiral; on the contrary, it is 
six months old.” 

“ Nonsense ! is it truly ? ” queried the admiral, ac- 
companying his question with a look that expressed his 
amazement. 

“Six months, yes, almost to a day, i’ faith ! Do you 
not remember the horoscopes read by an old woman, to 
Monsieur de Guise, the Marechal de Saint Andre, and 
your servant, at the Fete du Landi ? It certainly seems 
to me that I related the incident to you. ” 

“Yes, I recall it perfectly. It happened at an inn 
on the road from Gonesse to Saint Denis.” 

“ The very place, my dear admiral. Well, from that 
hour dates the discovery of my love for the charming 
Charlotte, and it may be that the death then predicted 
has given me a singular taste for life; but from that 
day forth I have lived only in the hope of winning the 
love of the marechal’ s daughter, and I have enlisted 
every resource of my brain toward achieving that end.” 

“ And if I may ask, without indiscretion, prince,” 
demanded the admiral, “ is your love requited 1 ” 

“ No, cousin, no; that is why you find me here kick- 
ing my heels. ” 

“ And waiting, gallant knight that you are, to receive 
a flower, a glove, a word 1 ” 

“ Mafoi, waiting not even for that.” 


AT THE FOOT OF THE NEW TOWER. 


Ill 


“ For what are yon waiting, then 'I ” 

“ For the light to go out, and for Monsieur le Prince 
de Joinville’s fiancee to go to sleep, so that I, in turn, 
may go and put out my own light and sleep also, if I 
can.” 

“ And this undoubtedly is not the first time, my dear 
prince, that you have waited for the young lady’s bed- 
time ? ” 

“It is not the first time, cousin, nor will it be the 
last. It will soon be four months that I have devoted 
myself to this innocent amusement.” 

“Unknown to Mademoiselle de Saint Andre?” in- 
quired the admiral, with an air of doubt. ^ 

“ Unknown to her, I begin to think.” 

“But this is more than love, dear prince; this is 
absolute worship, adoration like that of the Hindoos for 
their invisible divinities, which certain navigators tell 
us about.” 

“ Your word is very apt, my dear admiral ; it is abso- 
lute worship, and I must needs be the good Christian 
that I am not to abandon myself to this idolatry.” 

“Idolatry is the worship of images, my dear prince, 
and you do not happen to possess even an image of your 
goddess, do you ? ” 

“Faith, no, not even her image,” said the prince; 
“ but,” continued he, with a smile, and carrying his 
hand to his heart, “her image is here, and graven so 
well that, on my word, I have need of no other picture 
than the one that lives in my memory.” 

“ And what limit do you assign to this monotonous 
exercise 1 ” 

“ None. I shall come as long as I love Mademoiselle 
de Saint Andre. I shall love her, according to my 
wont, as long as she grants me nothing; and as, in all 


112 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


probability, she will not very soon grant me wbat must 
be granted before my love begins to wane, it is probable 
that 1 shall love her a long time.” 

“ What a strange fellow yon are, my dear prince! ” 

“ What would you have? I am so constituted; it is 
something I do not myself understand. As long as a 
woman bestows nothing upon me, T am madly in love, 
capable of killing her husband, her lover, of killing 
her, of killing myself, of making war for her sake, as 
did Pericles for Aspasia, Caesar for Eunoe, Antony for 
Cleopatra; then, if she yields — ” 

“ If she yields?” 

“Then, my dear admiral, — unfortunately for her, 
unfortunately for me! — the damper of satiety is turned 
on my folly, and it is extinguished.” 

“ But what the deuce do you find of pleasure, now, in 
watching here by the light of the moon ? ” 

“Under the window of a pretty maid? An enormous 
pleasure, dear cousin. Oh, you don’t understand; you, 
a grave, austere man, who stake your whole happiness 
on the winning of a battle or the triumph of your faith ! 
With me. Monsieur I’Amiral, it is another matter: 
with me, war is but an interregnum between two loves, 
the old love and the new. I really believe that God 
put me into the world only to love, since I am good for 
nothing else. Besides, it is God’s law. God has com- 
manded us to love our neighbor as ourselves. Well, 
excellent Christian that I am, T love my neighbor more 
than myself. Only, I love the most beautiful half, in 
its most agreeable form.” 

“ But where, then, have you seen Mademoiselle de 
Saint Andre since the Fete du Landi ? ” 

“ Ah! my dear admiral, it is a very long story, and, 
unless you are prepared, in spite of my trivial tale, to 


AT THE FOOT OF THE NEW TOWER. 113 


bear me company for at least a good half-hour, like the 
indulgent kinsman you are, I advise you not to insist, 
but to leave me to my reveries and my communion with 
the moon and stars, which are to me less luminous than 
the light you see shining from the windows of my 
divinity.” 

“ My dear cousin,” said the admiral, laughing, " I 
have future designs on you that you do not even sus- 
pect. It is to my interest, then, to study your every 
aspect; what you are showing me to-day seems not only 
a face but a facade. Come, open every portal! When 
I would deal with the true Conde, with the mighty cap- 
tain, show me the one at which I must enter; and when, 
instead of the hero I seek, I find only a Hercules spin- 
ning at the feet of Omphale, a Samson sleeping at the 
knees of Delilah, show me the one by which I must go 
out.” 

“ Then I am to tell you the whole truth ? ” 

“The whole.” 

“ As to a confessor 1 ” 

“ More frankly. ” 

“ I warn you that it is a veritable eclogue. ” 

“ Virgilius Maro’s most beautiful verses are nothing 
else than eclogues.” 

“ Then I will begin. ” 

“ I am all attention. ” 

“ Will you stop me when you have had enough ? ” 

“ I promise you that; but I do not think that I shall 
stop you. ” 

“ Ah ! great and sublime politician that you are ! ” 

“ Do you know, my dear prince, it looks to me as if 
you were jesting.” 

“ I ? Ah! par exemple, you know that such a speech 
plunges me into despair.” 


8 


114 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ Proceed, then. 

“ It was during the month of last September, after 
the hunt given to all the court by the Messieurs de 
Guise in the forest of Meudon.” 

“ I remember hearing about it, although I was not 
there. ” 

“ Then you will also remember that after the chase 
Madame Catherine repaired with all her maids of honor, 
her flying squadron as they are called, to Monsieur de 
Gondy’s chateau at Saint Cloud; you remember that, 
do you not, as you were there 1 ” 

“ Perfectly. ” 

“ Well, there, as you further recall, unless your atten- 
tion was bestowed upon graver matters, during the col- 
lation a young girl, on account of her beauty, won the 
attention of the court, and especially mine: it was 
Mademoiselle de Saint Andre. Afterwards, during the 
excursion on the water, a young girl, by means of her wit, 
excited the admiration of all the guests, and especially 
mine: it was Mademoiselle de Saint Andre. Finally, 
in the evening, at the ball, all eyes, and especially mine, 
were fixed upon a dancer whose peerless grace won smiles 
from every lip, murmured flattery from very tongue, looks 
of admiration from all eyes : again it was Mademoiselle 
de Saint Andre. Do you recall all that ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ So much the better! for, had you remembered it, it 
would not have been worth while for me to tell it. 
You can well understand how the fire, feebly burning 
in my heart at the Eed Horse Inn, became at Saint 
Cloud a devouring flame. As a result, having retired, 
when the ball was over, to the room assigned me on the 
first floor, instead of going to bed and closing my eyes 
in sleep, I sat at the window, and, thinking of her, I 


AT THE FOOT OF THE NEW TOWER. 


115 


fell into a gentle revery. I yielded myself up to it 
wholly, for how long a time I do not know, when, 
through the veil which thoughts of love had cast before 
my eyes, I seemed to see a living creature moving along, 
as ethereal as the passing breeze that tossed my hair. It 
seemed a thing as light as mist, — a pink and white 
shade, which floated down the walks of the park, and 
came to a halt just under my window, and leaned against 
the trunk of a tree whose foliage swept my closed jal- 
ousies. I recognized, or rather divined, that the beau- 
tiful nocturnal fairy was no other than Mademoiselle de 
Saint Andre, and I should most probably have jumped 
through the window to reach her as speedily as pos- 
sible, and fallen at her feet as promptly, when a second 
shadow, less pink and white than the first, but almost 
as airy, cleared the space between the two sides of the 
walk. This shade was evidently of the male sex.” 

“ Ah! ah!” murmured the admiral. 

" That is just the exclamation I permitted myself to 
make,” said Conde. " But the baleful doubts arising in 
my mind as to Mademoiselle de Saint Andre’s virtue 
were not of long duration; for the two shades began 
to babble, and the sound of their voices reached me 
through the branches of the tree and the openings of the 
jalousies, so that, just as- 1 had recognized the actors in 
the scene played twenty feet below me, I heard what 
they were saying.” 

“ And who were the actors ? ” 

“ They were Mademoiselle de Saint Andre and her 
father’s page.” 

“ And what were they talking about? ” 

“ They were simply discussing a fishing excursion for 
the next morning.” 

“ A fishing excursion ? ” 


116 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ Yes, my dear cousin; Mademoiselle de Saint Andre 
is an enthusiastic angler.” 

“ And it was for the purpose of arranging a fishing 
excursion that, at midnight, or one o’clock in the morn- 
ing, a girl of fifteen and a page of nineteen appointed a 
rendezvous in the park ? ” 

“ Like you, my dear admiral, I had my suspicions, 
and I must say that the page seemed very much disap- 
pointed when, having eagerly hastened to meet her, 
inspired, doubtless, by some other hope, he learned 
from Mademoiselle de Saint Andre’s own lips that she 
had made the rendezvous merely to request that he would 
secure two lines, one for herself and one for him, with 
which she invited him to meet her on the bank of the 
canal at five o’clock in the morning. The page himself 
could not help exclaiming, — 

“ ‘ But, mademoiselle, if it was merely for the sake of 
asking me to get you a line that you arranged for me to 
meet you, it was unnecessary to make so great a mystery 
of so simple a matter. ’ 

“ ‘ There is where you are wrong, Jacques,’ replied 
the girl; ‘ever since the fete began, I have been so 
flattered, so attended, so hemmed in by admirers and 
lovers, that, had I asked you for a line, and by any mis- 
chance my purpose had become known, in the morning, at 
five o’clock, I should find three-fourths of the lords of 
the court, including Monsieur de Conde, waiting for me 
on the hank, and you very well know that would scare 
away the fish, so that I could not catch the smallest 
gudgeon. Now, that is not what I wish; I intend to 
have some fine sport in the morning, with only you for 
company, ingrate that you are.’ 

" ‘ Ah! yes, mademoiselle,’ said the page, ‘ yes, I am 
an ingrate.’ 


AT THE FOOT OF THE NEW TOWER. 117 

‘ So it is arranged, Jacques, for five o’clock.* 

‘ I will be there at four, mademoiselle, with two 
lines.’ 

“ ‘ But you will not fish before I come, and without 
me, Jacques, will you? ’ 

“ ‘ Oh, I promise to wait for you! ’ 

Very well. Stay; for your trouble, there is my 
hand. ’ 

Ah! mademoiselle,’ cried the youth, falling upon 
the coquettish hand and covering it with kisses. 

“ ‘ Gently! ’ said the girl, withdrawing her hand. ‘ I 
meant that you might kiss, not devour, my band. 
Come, that will do! good-night, Jacques! On the bank 
of the great canal at five o’clock.’ 

“‘Ah! come when you will, mademoiselle, I shall 
be there, I promise you.’ 

“ ‘ Be off, be off! ’ bade Mademoiselle de Saint Andre, 
waving him away with her hand. 

“The page instantly obeyed, without reply, like a 
genie obeying the magician who has conjured him. In 
less* than a second he had disappeared. 

“ Mademoiselle de Saint Andre lingered behind for a 
moment; then, having assured herself that nothing dis- 
turbed the stillness of the night nor the solitude of the 
garden, she in turn disappeared, believing that she had 
been neither seen nor heard.” 

“ Are you sure, my dear prince, that the sly puss did 
not suspect you were at your window ? ” 

“ Ah! my good cousin, thus would you rob me of my 
illusions ! ” 

Then, drawing nearer to the admiral, he said, — 

“ Well, profound politician that you are, there are 
moments when I would not take my oath upon it.” 

“ Upon what ? ” 


118 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ That she had not seen me, and that the line, the 
fishing party, and the rendezvous at five in the morning, 
had not been a comedy.” 

“ Come, now! ” 

“ Oh, I never deny, when feminine trickery is in 
question,” said the prince; “and the younger and more 
naive the woman, the less I deny; but agree, my dear 
admiral, that if such were the case, she is a very clever 
person.” 

“ I do not say the contrary.” 

“ You can easily imagine that at five o’clock the next 
morning I was in ambush in the neighborhood of the 
great canal. The page had kept his word. He was 
there before daylight. As for the lovely Charlotte, she 
came, like the dawn, a moment before the sun, and with 
her rosy fingers took from the hands of Jacques a line 
already baited. For a second, I asked myself why she 
need have brought a fishing squire; but I soon discovered 
that such charming fingers could not touch the hideous 
creatures with which she would have been obliged to 
bait her hook, or those even that she must have unhoeked 
if the page had not been there to spare her the repug- 
nant office; as it was, of the fishing, which lasted until 
seven o’clock, there remained to the beautiful ' and re- 
fined girl only the pleasure,* and it must have been very 
great, for, by my faith, the young people caught between 
them a magnificent fry.” 

“ And what did you catch, my dear prince ? ” 

“ A very severe cold from getting my feet wet, and a 
fever of love, the effects of which you witness.” 

“ And you think the little jade was unaware of your 
presence 1 ” 

“ Eh ! mon Dieu / cousin , perhaps she knew I was 
there; but, really, she curved her arm so gracefully 


AT THE FOOT OF THE NEW TOWER. 


119 


when landing her fish, and held np her dress so coquet- 
tishly while advancing to the edge of the canal, that the 
arm and the ankle made me pardon all, since, if she 
knew me to be there, it was for me she practised all 
those charming poses, and not for the page, as I was at 
her right, and it was the right arm she curved and the 
left ankle that was displayed. To sum up, my dear 
admiral, I love her, if she is artless; but, if she is 
coquettish, so much the worse, — I adore her! You see 
that in either case I am very ill.” 

“ And since that time 1 ” 

" Since then, cousin, I have seen the charming arm, 
I have seen the ankle again, but only from afar, never 
being able to join the mistress of those fascinating 
treasures, who, when she perceives me in one direc- 
tion, — I must do her this justice, — flits away in the 
other. ” 

“ And what is to be the denouement of this mute 
infatuation 'I ” 

“ Eh ! mon Dieu ! ask a wiser man than I, my dear 
cousin; for if my infatuation is dumb, as you suggest, 
it is blind and deaf as well, — which means that it hears 
no counsel and does not see, and, more than that, does 
not wish to see beyond the present hour.” 

“But yet, my dear prince, you must hope at some 
future time to receive some recompense for this exem- 
plary servitude.” 

“ Naturally ; but it is a future so distant that I dare 
not contemplate it.” 

“ Well, believe me, it is not to be contemplated.” 

“ Why do you say that. Monsieur I’Amiral ? ” 

“ Because you would see nothing there, and you would 
be disheartened.” 

“ I fail to comprehend.” 


120 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


“Eh! m-on Dieu ! it is, nevertheless, quite compre- 
hensible.” 

“ Speak out, Monsieur I’Amiral.” 

“ Expect but one thing, my dear prince.” 

“ When Mademoiselle de Saint Andre is in question, 
I expect everything.” 

“ I will tell you the truth frankly, prince.” 

“Monsieur I’Amiral, I have for a long time enter- 
tained for you the respectful tenderness one cherishes 
for an elder brother, and the tender devotion one feels 
for a friend. You are the only man in the world whose 
right to advise I should recognize. Let me tell you 
that, far from deprecating the truth from your lips, I 
humbly solicit it. Speak!” 

“Thanks, prince!” responded the admiral, like one 
who understood the powerful influence that love affairs 
must exert over such a temperament as Monsieur de 
Conde’s, and who, consequently, attached grave impor- 
tance to a matter which, in any but the brother of the 
King of Navarre, he would have regarded as a trifle, — 
“ thanks! and since you grant me such liberty, here is 
the plain truth : Mademoiselle de Saint Andre does not 
love you, my dear prince; Mademoiselle de Saint Andre 
will never love you.” 

“ Are you not something of an astrologer, Monsieur 
I’Amiral? And, prior to such a sorry prediction, have 
you not, peradventure , questioned the stars in my 
behalf?” 

“ No. But do you know why she will not love 
you?” added the admiral. 

“How can you expect me to know that, since I am 
making every effort to win her love ? ” 

“ She will never love you, because she will never love 
any one, the little page no more than you ; she has a hard 


AT THE FOOT OF THE NEW TOWER. 121 


heart, an ambitious soul. I have known her from her 
earliest childhood, and, without any knowledge of the 
science of astrology, as you just now implied, I have, 
for my part, predicted that she would one day play a 
role in this great theatre of debauchery before us.” 

And with a gesture of utter contempt the admiral 
indicated the Louvre. 

“ Aha ! ” ejaculated Monsieur de Conde, “ that is a 
point of view from which I have not considered her.” 

“ She was not eight years old before she was play- 
ing the consummate courtesan, Agnes Sorel or Madame 
d’Etampes: her little playmates would place a card- 
board crown upon her head, and escort her about the 
hotel, crying, ‘ Long live the little queen! ’ Well, all 
through her girlhood she has retained the memory of 
that childish royalty. She professes to love Monsieur 
de Joinville, her fiance. She lies! It is only a pre- 
tence ; do you know why ? It is because Monsieur de 
floinville’s father. Monsieur de Guise, my friend of old, 
my inveterate enemy to-day, will, if he is not inter- 
fered with, be King of France before very long.” 

“ Ah ! diable ! are you convinced of that, cousin ? ” 

“ Perfectly, my dear prince; from which I conclude 
that your love for the queen’s beautiful maid of honor 
is a hopeless attachment, and one of which I advise you 
to rid yourself as soon as possible.” 

“ That is your advice ? ” 

“ And I give it from the bottom of my heart.” 

“As for me, dear cousin, I hasten to assure you that 
I receive it as it is given.” 

“ Only, you will not follow it.” 

“What can I do, my dear admiral? a man is not his 
own master in such matters.” 

“ Yet, my dear prince, judge the future by the past.” 


122 


THE HOROSCOPE, 


“Ah! well, yes, I confess that so far she has not 
given proof of any really ardent sympathy for your 
humble servant.” 

“ And you think such a state of things will not con- 
tinue. Ah! I know you have a good opinion of your- 
self, my dear prince. ” 

“ Well, really, it would he giving others very good 
grounds for despising us if we despise ourselves. But 
it is not that at all. The tenderness which she does 
not feel for me, you cannot, unfortunately, prevent my 
cherishing for her. That makes you shrug your shoul- 
ders. How can it he helped 1 Am I free to love or not 
to love? Suppose I were to say to you: ‘ At the siege 
of Saint Quentin you held out, for three weeks, with 
two thousand men, against the fifty or sixty thousand 
Blemish and Spanish troops of Emmanuel Philibert 
and Philip II. ; well, now it is your turn to make the 
siege; there are thirty thousand men in the place, and 
you have hut ten thousand ; ’ would you refuse to be- 
siege Saint Quentin ? No ; is it not so ? Why ? Be- 
cause you have learned from experience in war that no 
place is impregnable to the valiant. Ah, well, my dear 
cousin, perhaps I am boasting, hut I think I have gained 
the same experience in love as you in war, and I say, 
‘ No place is impregnable. ^ You have set me an example 
in war, my dear admiral; permit me to set you an 
example in love.” 

“ Ah ! prince ! prince ! what a great leader you would 
have made,” said the admiral, sadly, “if, instead of 
love’s filling your heart with carnal desires, a loftier 
transport had thrust the sword into your hand.” 

“ You mean religion ? ” 

“Yes, prince; would that God had willed you to be 
one of us, and, consequently, one of His own ! ” 


AT THE FOOT OF THE NEW TOWER. 123 


‘^My dear cousin,” said Condd, with his habitual 
gayety, hut revealing beneath that gayety the decision 
of a man who, without seeming to do so, has often 
reflected upon the subject, “ you will not believe it, 
perhaps, but in matters of religion I have ideas as 
settled, at least, as in those of love.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” demanded the astonished 
admiral. 

The Prince de Conde’s smile vanished from his lips, 
and he continued seriously : — 

“ I mean to say, my dear admiral, that I have my own 
religion, my own faith , my own charity ; that to honor 
God I need no exhortation, and, so long as you fail to 
prove, my dear cousin, that your new doctrine is prefer- 
able to the old one, suffer me to adhere to the religion 
of my fathers, — unless I take a fancy to change it for 
the sake of playing a trick on Monsieur de Guise.” 

“Oh, prince! prince!” murmured the admiral, “is 
it thus you dispense the treasures of strength, youth, 
and intelligence bestowed on you by the Almighty, and 
will you not learn how to use them in advancing some 
great cause ? Is not this instinctive hatred you feel for 
the Guises a providential warning? Eouse yourself, 
prince, and if you do not fight the enemies of your God, 
at least fight those of your king. ” 

“ Good ! ” said Conde; “ but you are forgetting, cousin, 
that I have a king of my own, as well as a God of my 
own, — true, my king is as small as my God is great. 
My king, dear admiral, is my brother, the King of 
Navarre. He is my real king. The King of France is 
but my adopted king, a suzerain lord.” 

“ Now you are evading the question, prince ; you have 
fought for this king, however. ” 

“ But that is because I fight for any king, according 


124 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


to my Avliiin, as I love any woman, according to my 
fancy. ” 

“ Is it, then, impossible, my dear prince, to speak 
seriously with you upon any of these matters 1 ” asked 
the admiral. 

“ By no means, ” answered the prince , with a degree 
of gravity ; “ let us speak of them on some other occa- 
sion, cousin, and I will give you an answer. Believe 
me, I should- regard myself as a great wretch and a con- 
temptible citizen, were I to consecrate my whole life to 
the sole service of dames. I know that I have duties to 
fulfill, Monsieur I’Amiral, and that intelligence, cour- 
age, and skill, the precious gifts that I hold from the 
Lord, have not been given me merely for the purpose of 
humming serenades under balconies. But have patience, 
my good cousin and excellent friend; allow the first 
fires of youth a chance to burn out. Why, the devil ! 
consider, I am not yet thirty years old. Monsieur 
I’Amiral; and, in the absence of war, I must employ 
my pent-up energies in some way. Pardon me, then, 
even this adventure; and, as I do not accept the counsel 
you have proffered, be so kind as to give me that I shall 
ask for. ” 

“ Speak, foolish soul,” said the admiral, in a fatherly 
way, “ and God grant the advice I am to give may profit 
you in some manner ! ” 

“Monsieur I’Amiral,” said Monsieur le Prince de 
Conde, taking his cousin’s arm, “ you are a great gen- 
eral, a great strategist, beyond contradiction the first 
soldier of the day. Tell me how you would go about 
it, if you were in my place, for instance, to gain access 
at this hour, almost midnight, to Mademoiselle de Saint 
Andre, in order to tell her that you love her? ” 

“I see, indeed, my dear prince,” said the admiral. 


AT THE POOT OF THE NEW TOWEK. 125 

“ that you will not be cured until you know the woman 
with whom you have to deal. It is, therefore, doing 
you a service to humor your madness, until madness 
gives place to reason. Well, in your place — ” 

“ Sh ! ” said Conde, retreating into the shadow. 

“ And why ? ” 

“ Because it strikes me that something like a second 
lover is approaching the window.” 

“ That is true,” said the admiral. 

And, following Conde’s example, he shrank hack into 
the darkness of the shadow cast by the Tower. 

Then, motionless, and holding their breath, the two 
watched Eohert Stuart’s approach; they saw him pick 
up the stone, fasten a note to it, and throw the whole, 
stone and note, through the lighted window. 

Next they heard the sound of breaking glass. 

Then they saw the unknown, whom they had taken 
for a lover, — and who was no less, to do him justice, 
— take flight and disappear, after having assured him- 
self that the missile which he had thrown had reached 
its destination. 

"Ah! by my faith,” said Conde, “without letting 
you off from the advice for some other time, I excuse 
you from giving it to-night.” 

“ How is that ? ” 

“ Because my course is clear. ” 

“ In what respect ? ” 

“ Eh ! pardieu / it is simple enough ; that broken 
window belongs to the Marechal de Saint Andre, and 
certainly it was not broken with good intent. ” 

“ Well?” 

“Well, — I was coming out of the Louvre; I heard 
the crash of their broken window; I feared there might 
be some mischief afoot against the marechal, and, i’ 


126 


THE HOKOSCOPE. 


faith, despite the advanced hour of the night, such is 
my regard for him, I could not refrain from entering to 
learn whether any harm has been done.” 

“Mad! mad! thrice mad!” exclaimed the admiral. 

I asked your advice, my friend; have you any better 
to offer?” 

« Yes.” 

“ And that is ? ” 

“Do not go in.” 

“But, you know, that was your first advice, and I 
told you I did not mean to follow it. ” 

“ Ah, well, so be it ! Let us go to the Marechal de 
Saint Andre’s.” 

“ Then are you coming with me ? ” 

“ My dear prince , when one cannot keep a madman 
from committing mad acts, and when one loves the mad- 
man as I love you, one must needs half enter into his 
folly in order to get him out of it as well as possible. 
Come, to the marechars.” 

“My dear admiral, tell me by what breach I must 
mount, what arquebusade I must pass in order to fol- 
low you, and, at the first opportunity, I will take the 
lead instead of following after.” 

“ Come, to the marechal’s.” 

And both directed their steps toward the great en- 
trance of the Louvre, where, after giving the pass-word, 
the admiral entered, followed by the Prince de Conde. 


THE SIKEN. 


127 


X. 

THE SIREN. 

Arrived at the door of the apartment occupied at the 
Louvre by Monsieur le Marechal de Saint Andre in his 
capacity of king’s chamberlain, the admiral knocked; 
but the door, slightly pushed, yielded under his touch, 
and opened into the antechamber. 

In the antechamber stood a valet, very much 
frightened. 

“ Friend,” said the admiral, addressing the valet, “ is 
Monsieur le Marechal visible, notwithstanding the 
lateness of the hour 1 ” 

“Certainly, Monsieur le Marechal would always be 
visible to Your Excellency,” replied the valet; “ but an 
unexpected occurrence has just compelled him to go to 
the king.” 

“An unexpected occurrence? ” repeated Conde. 

“It is an unexpected occurrence, also, which brings 
us to him,” said M. de Coligny, “ and it is probably the 
same one. Is it not that a stone has broken one of his 
windows ? ” 

“ Yes, monseigneur; it fell at the feet of Monsieur le 
Marechal just as he was passing from his office to his 
bedroom.” 

“ You see that I know of the occurrence, my friend, 
and as I can, perhaps, place Monsieur le Marechal on 
the culprit’s track, I should like to confer with him 
upon the subject.” 


128 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ If Monsieur I’Amiral will wait,” answered the valet, 
“and go, meanwhile, to Mademoiselle de Saint Andre, 
Monsieur le Marechal will not be long in returning.” 

“ But perhaps Mademoiselle de Saint Andre is not 
awake at this moment,” said the Prince de Conde; 
“ and for nothing in the world would we be willing to 
intrude.” 

“ Oh, monseigneur,” replied the valet, who had recog- 
nized the prince, “Your Highness may be reassured. 
I have just seen one of mademoiselle’s women, who said 
that she would not go to bed until her father returned 
and she understood the meaning of that letter.” 

“ What letter ? ” asked the admiral. 

The prince touched his elbow. 

“ It is very plain,” said he, — “ the letter which was 
probably attached to the stone.” Then, under his 
breath, he added, to the admiral, — 

“ It is a kind of correspondence that I have more than 
once carried on successfully, cousin.” 

“Well,” said the admiral, “we accept your invita- 
tion, my friend; ask Mademoiselle de Saint Andre if 
she will receive Monseigneur le Prince de Conde and 
myself. ” 

The lackey departed, and in a brief space of time 
returned to announce that Mademoiselle de Saint Andre 
awaited the two seigneurs. 

Then, preceded by the valet, they directed their steps 
down the corridor leading to Mademoiselle de Saint 
Andre’s apartment. 

“Confess, my dear prince,” said the admiral, in an 
undertone, “that you are engaging me in pretty work.” 

“ My dear cousin,” said Conde, “ you know the saying, 
— ‘ No work is undignified,’ especially if one engages 
in it heartily.” 


THE SIREN. 


129 


The valet announced His Highness, Monsieur le* 
Prince de Conde, and His Excellency, Admiral Coligny. 

Then Mademoiselle de Saint Andre was heard to say, 
most graciously, — 

“ Show them in. ” 

The valet withdrew, and the two seigneurs entered 
Mademoiselle de Saint Andre’s apartment, in the centre 
of which glittered the five-branched candelabrum at 
whose lights the prince had been gazing for the last three 
months through the young girl’s curtained windows. 

It was a tiny boudoir, hung with pale blue satin, 
where Mademoiselle de Saint Andre, pink and white 
and fair, looked like a naiad in a blue grotto. 

“Eh! mon Dieu ! mademoiselle,” exclaimed the 
Prince de Conde, as if he were too excited to pause for 
ordinary compliments, “ what has just happened to you, 
or to Monsieur le Marechal ? ” 

“Ah!” said Mademoiselle de Saint Andre, “you 
already know of the incident? ” 

“Yes, mademoiselle,” rejoined the prince. “ We were 
leaving the Louvre, Monsieur I’Amiral and I; we were 
just under your windows, when a stone whizzed over 
our heads. At the same instant we heard a great crash 
of breaking glass, which so alarmed us both that we 
immediately re-entered the Louvre, and have taken the 
liberty to come and inquire of your lackey whether any- 
thing has happened to the marechal. The good fellow 
very imprudently told us that we could learn from you; 
that, in spite of the advanced hour of the night, in 
view of the motive which brings us, you might, per- 
haps, permit us to enter. Monsieur I’Amiral hesitated. 
My interest in Monsieur le Marechal and the other 
members of his family caused me to insist, and, i’ faith, 
mademoiselle, indiscreet or not, we are here.” 

9 


130 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“It is really very kind of you, prince, believing us 
to be in danger, thus to inconvenience yourself on our 
account. But the danger, if it exists, threatens loftier 
heads than ours.” 

“ What mean you, mademoiselle 1 ” (][uickly inter- 
posed the admiral. 

“ The stone that broke the window was wrapped in 
an almost threatening letter to the king. My father 
picked up the missive, and has taken it to the king.” 

“But,” demanded the Prince de Conde, by a sud- 
den inspiration, “ has the captain of the guard been 
notified ? ” 

“I do not know, monseigneur,” returned Mademoi- 
selle de Saint Andre; “ but, in any event, if it has not 
been done, it should certainly be attended to.” 

• “Undoubtedly; there is not a moment to lose,” 
pursued the prince. 

And, turning to Coligny, Conde demanded, — 

“ Your brother Uandelot commands the Louvre this 
week, does he not? ” 

“ He does, my dear prince, ” returned the admiral , 
catching Conde’s meaning on the wing; “and I will 
myself go and tell him, at all events, to double the 
watch and change the password as precautionary 
measures. ” 

“Go, my dear admiral,” cried the prince, highly 
delighted at being so readily understood; “and God 
grant that you arrive in time ! ” 

The admiral smiled and retired, leaving the Prince 
de Conde alone with Mademoiselle de Saint Andre. 

With a look of amusement on her face, the girl 
watched the grave admiral’s retreat. 

Then, turning to the prince, she said, — 

“And let them now pretend to say that Your High- 


THE SIREN. 


131 


ness is not as attached to the king as to your own 
brother! ” 

“ But who has ever questioned my devotion, made- 
moiselle 1 ” demanded the prince. 

“The whole court, monseigneur, — I, particularly.” 

“ Nothing is simpler than that the court should doubt 
it; the court belongs to Monsieur de Guise, while you, 
mademoiselle — ” 

“ I do not yet belong to him, but I shall ; it is 
the difference between what is and is to be, mon- 
seigneur, nothing more.” 

“ So this incredible match is still in prospect? ” 

“More than ever, monseigneur.” 

“ I do not know why,” said the prince, “ but I have an 
idea in my head, in my heart I should say, that it will 
never take place. ” 

“ Really, I should be afraid, prince, if you were not 
so poor a prophet.” 

“Bon Dieu ! Who, then, has been injuring my 
reputation with you for astrological knowledge ? ” 

“ You yourself, prince.” 

“ And how is that ? ” 

“ By predicting that I should love you. ” 

“ Did I really predict that ? ” 

“ Oh, I see you have forgotten the day of the mirac- 
ulous fish.” 

“To forget it, mademoiselle, I must first break 
the meshes of the net in which you caught me that 
day.” 

“ Oh, prince, you might indeed say the net in which 
you caught yourself ! I have never, thank God, cast 
any net for you ! ” 

“ No; but you have lured me on like one of the sirens 
Horace speaks of.” 


132 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“Oh,” said Mademoiselle de Saint Andre, familiar 
with Latin, like all the ladies of that epoch, who were 
almost as learned in letters as in love, desinit in 
piscem,' says Horace. Look at me; do I end in a 
fish?” 

“ No, and you are hut the more dangerous, since you 
have the voice and the eyes of the ancient enchantresses. 
You have drawn me, without knowing it, innocently, 
perhaps; hut now, and I swear it, I am irretrievably 
ensnared.” 

“ If I could place the least faith in your words, I 
should pity you sincerely, prince; for to love without 
return seems to me the cruellest pain that a sensitive 
heart can experience.” 

“Pity me, then, with all your soul, mademoiselle, 
for never has a lover been less loved than I.” 

“You will at least render me this justice, prince,” 
said Mademoiselle de Saint Andre, with a smile: “I 
warned you in time.” 

“ I beg your pardon, mademoiselle ; it was already too 
late. ” 

“ And from what era do you date the birth of your 
love, — from the Christian or the Mohammedan era? ” 

“Prom the Pete du Landi, mademoiselle; from that 
day, happy or unhappy, when, all muffled up in your 
mantle, I first saw you, your hair unknotted by the 
storm, and curling in blond ringlets about your swan- 
like neck.” 

“ But you scarcely spoke to me that day, prince.” 

“ Probably I was gazing too intently, and sight de- 
stroyed speech. We never speak to the stars; we gaze 
at them, and dream, and hope.” 

“Why, know you not, prince, that is a metaphor of 
which Monsieur Bonsard might he envious ? ” 


THE SIREN. 133 

** Posts, mademoiselle, are the echoes of nature; 
nature sings and the poets repeat her songs.” 

“ Better and better, prince. I see you are slandered 
when it is said that you have nothing but wit. You 
have, in addition, it seems to me, a splendid imagina- 
tion.” 

“ I have your image in my heart, and that radiant 
image sheds lustre even on my least word. The merit 
you impute to me is therefore to be ascribed to yourself 
alone.” 

“ Ah, well ! prince, heed me, close your eyes, do not 
look at my image. I could wish you happier. ” 

As radiant in her victory as Monsieur de Conde was 
humiliated by his defeat. Mademoiselle de Saint Andre 
advanced a step toward him, and, extending her hand, 
said, — 

“Come, prince, this is the way I treat the van- 
quished. ” 

The prince seized the girl’s hand, white, but cold, 
and ardently pressed it to his lips. 

In this miscalculated movement, a tear, which had 
trembled in the corner of the prince’s eye, and the fever 
of pride had in vain endeavored to dry, fell on that 
marble hand, where it quivered and glistened like a 
diamond. 

Mademoiselle de Saint Andre both felt and saw it. 

“ Ah ! upon my word ! I believe that you are really 
weeping, prince,” she cried, bursting into a laugh. 

“ ’T is the drop of rain after the storm,” returned 
the prince, with a sigh. “ What is there amazing in 
that?” 

Mademoiselle de Saint Andre fixed an eye of flame 
on the prince, seeming to hesitate a moment, between 
coquetry and pity. At last, although we are unable to 


134 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


say by which of the two sentiments she was impelled, 
— perhaps she was influenced by a mingling of both 
sentiments, — she drew from her pocket a fine batiste 
handkerchief, scented with the perfume that she usually 
dispensed, and, tossing it to the prince, she said, — 

“ There, monseigneur, if you happen to be subject to 
the malady of weeping, take my handkerchief to dry 
your tears. ” 

Then, with a glance that certainly leaned to the side 
of coquetry, she said, — 

“ Keep it in memory of an ingrate. ” 

And, as light as a fairy, she disappeared. 

The prince, half crazed with love, caught the hand- 
kerchief in his hand; and, as if fearful lest the precious 
gift should be withdrawn, he ran down the stairs, un- 
mindful that the king’s life was threatened, forgetting 
that his cousin, the admiral, would return to Mademoi- 
selle de Saint Andre’s apartment for him, and aware of 
but one purpose in his heart, — to rain passionate kisses 
upon that precious handkerchief. 


MADEMOISELLE DE SAINT ANDK^ 


135 


XI. 


THE VIRTUE OF MADEMOISELLE DE SAINT ANDR^. 

XoT until he had reached the river-bank did Conde 
pause, as if he thought that nothing less than the hun- 
dred yards he had just placed between himself and Made- 
moiselle de Saint Andre could assure him of undisputed 
possession of the precious handkerchief. 

Then only did he remember the admiral and his 
promise to wait for him. He waited therefore about a 
quarter of an hour, pressing the handkerchief to his lips, 
and straining it to his bosom, like a sixteen-year-old 
school-hoy in his first love affair. 

Now, was he in reality waiting for the admiral, or was he 
lingering there purely and simply for the sake of hovering 
longer near the light that had the fatal power of attract- 
ing him, the brilliant moth, until he should he consumed ? 

For that matter, he was already on fire, poor prince, 
and that perfumed handkerchief fanned the flame 
amazingly. 

He was far from believing himself vanquished, the 
haughty champion of love, and could the girl, hidden 
behind her window-curtain, have seen in the moonlight a 
second tear, a tear of happiness , glistening on the edge of 
the prince’s eyelid, she would doubtless have been con- 
vinced that the handkerchief, instead of drying tears, had 
the power to make them spring, and that the tears of re- 
gret had been washed away by tears of joy. 

After a few moments of these transports and frenzied 
kisses, one of the prince’s unoccupied senses, out of re- 


136 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


veiige, no doubt, for the neglect to which its master had 
abandoned it, started out of its sleep at a sudden sound. 
It was the sense of hearing. 

The sound evidently came from the folds of the hand- 
kerchief. It recalled the dance of dead leaves at the first 
breath of the autumn wind, or a colony of insects return- 
ing in a swarm to their hollow in the tree after a day’s 
outing, or, again, the melancholy plash rising from the 
drops of a fountain as they fall into its basin. 

It was, in short, a slight rustling such as a silken robe 
yields under a touch of the hand. 

Whence did it come 1 

Apparently, this charming little handkerchief of batiste 
was able, by itself and of its own accord, to emit a very 
decided sound. 

Astonished, the Prince de Conde carefully unrolled 
the handkerchief, which innocently yielded up its 
secret. 

He came upon a tiny, folded paper which, without 
doubt, had inadvertently found its way into the folds of 
the handkerchief. 

The billet not only seemed to be perfumed with the 
same fragrance as the handkerchief, but perhaps even the 
charming fragrance emanated not from the handkerchief 
but from the billet. 

Monsieur de Conde was preparing to seize the tiny 
note between his thumb and forefinger with as much pre- 
caution as a child displays in picking up by its wings a 
butterfly poised on a flower; but as the butterfly eludes 
tlie child, so the billet, swept away by a puff of wind, 
escaped from Monsieur de Conde. 

Monsieur de Conde saw it float away into the night 
like a snow-flake, and he ran after it with an eagerness 
very unlike the child’s when chasing his butterfly. 


MADEMOISELLE DE SAINT ANDRE. 137 

Unfortunately, the paper had fallen among stones hewn 
for the construction of the palace, and, being of nearly 
the same color as the stone, it was difficult to distinguish 
in the rubbish. 

The prince began a desperate search. Had it not 
gradually dawned upon him, — lovers are indeed strange 
creatures ! — that Mademoiselle de Saint Andre had 
espied him beneath her windows, that she had before- 
hand written the little note to give him whenever an op- 
portunity offered, and that, the opportunity afforded, she 
had delivered it. 

The little billet probably contained an explanation of 
her conduct; that gift of the handkerchief had been 
merely a way of posting the note. 

To lose such a note was very bad luck, it must be 
acknowledged. 

But Monsieur de Conde swore the note should not be 
lost, if he had to wait until the next morning. 

Meanwhile he searched, but in vain. 

For an instant he entertained the idea of running to the 
guard of the Louvre to borrow a lantern with which he 
could return and search for his note. 

Yes; but should in the mean time a gust of wind by 
some ill chance arise, what assurance had the prince that 
he would find the billet where he had left it 1 

The prince was in the very midst of his cruel per- 
plexity, when he saw the night-patrol coming toward 
him, preceded by a sergeant carrying a lantern in his 
hand. 

It was all that he could for the moment desire. 

Calling the sergeant, he made himself known, and 
borrowed the lantern for a short time. 

After a ten minutes’ search, he gave a cry of joy, — 
he had caught sight of the blessed paper! 


138 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


This time it did not even attempt to fly away, and 
with unspeakable delight the prince placed his hand upon 
it. 

But, just as his own hand touched the paper, he felt 
another’s laid on his shoulder, while a familiar voice 
demanded in accents of astonishment, — 

“ Why, what the devil are you doing there, my dear 
prince ? Do you happen to be looking for a man ? ” 

The prince had recognized the admiral’s voice. 

He quic^y returned the sergeant’s lantern, and gave 
the soldiers the two or three pieces of gold which he had 
about him, and which for the time being probably com- 
prised the entire fortune of the poor younger son. 

“ Ah ! ” said he, “ I am looking for something quite as 
important to a lover as, in a different way, a man is to a 
philosopher; I am hunting for a woman’s letter.” 

“ And have you found it ? ” 

“ By good luck, yes ! for had I not persevered, it is 
likely that an estimable lady of the court would to- 
morrow have been frightfully compromised.” 

“ Ah ! the deuce ! here is a discreet cavalier. And this 
billet — ?” 

“ Is of importance only to me, my dear admiral, ” said 
the young prince, thrusting the hand that held it into the 
side-pocket of his doublet. “ Tell me, now, while I 
escort you back to the rue Bethisy, what it was that 
the Marechal de Saint Andre carried to the king.” 

“ Faith ! something very strange, — a letter of remon- 
strance relative to the execution of Councillor Dubourg, 
announced for the twenty-second.” 

“ Ah fa ! my dear admiral, ” said the Prince de Conde 
laughing, “ that has every appearance of proceeding from 
some madman whose head has been turned by Prot- 
estantism,” 


MADEMOISELLE DE SAINT ANDREI. 


139 


“ I am afraid it is so, upon my word, ” said Coligny ; 
“ I suspect it settles the poor councillor’s affairs. Why 
ask for a pardon now ? The king can only reply, ‘No; 
for, if the councillor is not put to death, I shall be thought 
afraid.’ ” 

“ Well,” said Conde, “ think over this grave question, 
my dear admiral, and I have no doubt that, thanks to 
your wisdom, you may see some way to settle the matter. ” 

Then, as they had reached the church of Saint-Ger- 
inain-l’ Auxerrois, and, in order to regain his hotel, he was 
obliged to cross the Seine by the Pont aux Meuniers, the 
prince, when one o’clock of the morning was proclaimed 
by the night-watch thirty feet away, pleaded the place, the 
distance to traverse, the advanced hour of the night, as 
excuses for leaving the admiral and regaining his own 
hotel. 

The admiral, for his part, was too preoccupied to re- 
tain him. 

So that nothing hindered the departure of Monsieur de 
Conde, who, once out of sight of the Seigneur de Cha- 
tillon, took to his heels, still clutching the precious billet 
in his doublet pocket, lest he should again lose it. But 
this time there was no danger! 

To reach his home, to mount the fifteen or eighteen 
steps leading to his apartment, to have the wax-candles 
lighted by his valet de chambre, to dismiss him saying 
that he had no more need of his services, to fasten the 
door, to draw near the light and extricate the paper from 
his pocket, — all was a matter of barely ten minutes. 

But, as he was on the point of unfolding and reading 
the charming love-letter, for a billet so perfumed could be 
nothing less, a haze swept over his eyes and his heart 
beat so violently that he was forced to lean against the 
chimney-piece. 


140 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


At last, the prince regained his self-control. The cloud 
passed away and his eyes were able to fix themselves 
upon the billet and read the following lines, which, in 
the sweet illusion into which he had fallen, were very 
far from being what he had expected. 

And you, dear readers, are you waiting for the con- 
tents of the note inadvertently enveloped in the handker- 
chief that Mademoiselle de Saint Andre had flung at her 
despairing adorer? 

You who know the human heart, have you a good 
opinion of this young girl who loves neither that pretty 
page, nor this handsome prince, and who grants a rendez- 
vous to the one to ask him for a fishing-line, and throws 
her handkerchief to the other to help him dry the tears 
that she has caused to flow, — all this just as she is about 
to marry a third ? 

Does nature really produce hearts of stone which the 
most highly tempered blade cannot cut ? Do you doubt it ? 

Look upon the contents of the note and you will doubt 
no more : — 

“ Do not fail, dear love, to repair to-morrow, an hour after 
midnight, to the Salle des Metamorphoses. The room in 
which we met last night is too near the apartments of the 
two queens ; our confidante will see that the door is open.” 

There is no signature ; the writing is unknown. 

“ Ah! the perverted creature 1 ” cried the prince, strik- 
ing the table with his fist and dropping the paper. 

And, after the first explosion coming from the depths 
of his heart, the prince stood for a moment rooted to the 
spot. 

But speech and motion very soon returned to him, and, 
striding up and down the room, he exclaimed as he went, — 

“ So the admiral was right ! ” 


MADEMOISELLE DE SAINT ANDE^. 141 

Then he observed the note which he had let fall on a 
chair. 

“ And, ” he continued, becoming more and more 
excited, “ I have been the toy of an arrant coquette, and 
she who has played with me is a child of fifteen years! 
I, the Prince de Conde, the man who, above all others, 
pass at court as knowing the hearts of women, I, — I 
have been the dupe of a little girl’s trickery ! Sang du 
Christ! I am ashamed of myself! I have been scorned 
like a school-boy, and have wasted three months of my 
life, — three months of an intelligent man’s life sacrificed, 
lost, thrown to the winds aimlessly, unreasonably, use- 
lessly, ingloriously. I have wasted three months, madly 
in love with a hussy ! I ! I ! ” 

Full of wrath he picked it up. 

“ Ah ! yes ; now that I know her, ” he continued, 
“ two can play! We will play it to the end. You know 
my game, belle demoiselle; and now I know yours. 
Ah ! I will learn the name, I promise you, of the man 
who was unable to taste delight undisturbed.” 

The prince crumpled the letter, thrust it into the space 
between the hollow of his hand and his glove, resumed 
his sword, put on his hat and prepared to go out, when 
suddenly a thought struck him. 

He rested his elbow against the wall, and his forehead 
on his hand, and pondered deeply. Then, after a moment’s 
reflection, he removed his hat, sent it flying across the 
room, reseated himself at the table, and for the second 
time read the letter that had just wrought such a fearful 
revolution in his mind. 

“ Detestable race ! ” said he when he had finished 
reading; “ she-hypocrite and liar ! You repelled me with 
one hand and drew me on with the other. You em- 
ployed against me, a man honest even to simpleness. 


142 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


every resource of your infernal duplicity, and I saw noth- 
ing, understood nothing. I, loyal myself, was stupid 
enough to believe in loyalty; I, an upright man, to bow 
down before falsehood ! Ah ! yes, I wept ; I wept from 
vexation; I wept for joy! Now, flow, flow, tears! tears 
of shame and rage ! Flow and efface the stains this un- 
worthy love has left ! Flow and carry away, as a torrent 
does dead leaves, the last illusions of my youth, the last 
faith of my soul ! — ” 

And, in fact, that strong soul, that lion-hearted man, 
sobbed like a child. 

Then, his sobs exhausted, a third time he read the 
letter, but this time without bitterness. 

His tears had not swept away the illusions of youth, 
the soul’s beliefs which only they who have never had 
them lose, but, on the contrary, his anger and bitterness. 
True, they left in their place disdain and scorn. 

“ Nevertheless, ” he said after a pause, “ I have sworn 
that I will learn this man’s name; I will know it. It 
shall not be said that any man with whom she has laughed 
at my ridiculous infatuation shall have laughed and live ! 
But, ” continued the prince, “ who can he be ? ” 

And again he read the note. 

“ I know the handwriting of almost every gentleman 
of the court, from the king’s to Monsieur de Mouchy’s, 
and I do not recognize this handwriting. Upon study, one 
would think it a woman’s hand, — disguised writing. 
‘ An hour past midnight, ’ ‘ the Salle des Metamor- 
phoses.’ Wait till to-morrow. It is Dandelot’s week at 
the Louvre. Dandelot will help me’, and, in case of need, 
so will Monsieur I’Amiral.” 

And this resolution formed, the prince again took 
three or four turns up and down the room and ended by 
casting himself, dressed as he was, upon his bed. 


MADEMOISELLE DE SAINT ANDRE. 


143 


But the conflicting emotions he had just experienced 
had thrown him into a fever that would not permit him 
to close his eyes for a moment. 

Never had he passed such a night on the eve of any 
battle, however bloody it was likely to prove. 

Happily the night was already far advanced; the 
watchmen were proclaiming three o’clock when the prince 
cast himself upon his bed. 

At dawn, the prince rose and went out; he was going 
to the admiral’s. 

Monsieur de Coligny was an early riser, and the prince 
found him already up. 

At sight of Monsieur de Conde, the admiral- was 
alarmed by his pallor and agitation. 

“ Mon Dieu I ” cried he, “ what is the matter, my 
dear Prince 1 what has happened ? ” 

“ Last night, ” responded the prince, “ you found me 
hunting for a billet among the stones at the Louvre. Do 
you remember ? ” 

“ Yes, and you even had the luck to find it.” 

“ Luck ! I believe, indeed, that is very like the word I 
used. ” 

“ From a woman, was it not ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ And the woman 1 ” 

“ As you said, cousin, she is a monster of hypocrisy.” 

“Aha! Mademoiselle de Saint Andre; she, it seems, 
is the one in question.” 

“ Here, read it. This is the note I had lost, the 
wind having snatched it from the handkerchief she had 
given me.” 

The admiral read. 

Just as he was concluding Dandelot entered, on his 
way from the Louvre where he had spent the night. 


144 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


Dandelot was of about the same age as the prince and 
strongly attached to him. 

“ Ah ! my dear Dandelot, ” cried Conde, I came to 
Monsieur I’Amiral’s especially hoping to meet you here.” 

“ Well, prince, here I am.” 

“ I have a favor to ask of you.” 

“ I am yours to command. ” 

“ Here is the point : for a certain reason which I am 
not at liberty to reveal, I must gain entrance to the Salle 
des Metamorphoses about midnight. Have you any reason 
for keeping me out ? ” 

“Yes, monseigneur, to my great regret.” 

« Why ? ” 

“ Because His Majesty last evening received a threat- 
ening letter, in which some person declares that he has 
the means of gaining access to the king, and the king has 
given the strictest orders forbidding admission to the 
Louvre, after ten o’clock in the evening, to all gentlemen 
who are not in waiting.” 

“ But, my dear Dandelot, such a measure cannot con- 
cern me. I have had the freedom of the Louvre at all 
hours, until now, and, unless the order has been directed 
against me personally — ” 

“ Of course, monseigneur, the order cannot have been 
directed against you personally; but as it is directed 
against everybody, you find yourself included with the 
rest.” 

“ Well, Dandelot, an exception must be made in my 
favor for reasons which are known to the admiral, reasons 
entirely foreign to what has happened. For a wholly 
personal motive, I must enter the Salle des Metamor- 
phoses at midnight, and it is a matter of necessity, more- 
over, that my visit be kept secret from every one, even 
from His Majesty.” 


MADEMOISELLE DE SAINT ANDRI 145 

Dandelot hesitated, quite abashed at having to refuse 
the prince anything. 

He turned to the admiral with a questioning look as to 
wliat he should do. 

The admiral gave a nod equivalent to the words, 
“I will answer for him.” 

Dandelot yielded gracefully enough. 

“Then, monseigneur,” said he, “confess that a love 
affair counts for something in your expedition, so that, if 
I am reprimanded, it shall at least be in a cause that a 
gentleman may espouse.” 

“ Oh ! as regards that, I will conceal nothing from you, 
Dandelot. On my honor, a love affair is my sole reason 
for asking this favor of you.” 

“ Very well, monseigneur, ” returned Dandelot, “ the 
matter is settled, and at midnight I will conduct you to 
the Salle des Metamorphoses.” 

“ Thanks, Dandelot ! ” exclaimed the prince holding 
out his hand ; “ and if ever you are in need in a matter 
of this kind or in any other, do not look, I beg, for any 
sqpporter other than myself.” 

And having shaken hands first with one and then with 
the other of the two brothers, Henri de Conde rapidly 
descended the stairs of the H6tel de Coligny. 


10 


146 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


XII. 

THE SALLE DES METAMORPHOSES. 

Eecall, dear readers, the feverish hours you have slowly 
counted, one after the other, while awaiting the moment 
of your first rendezvous; or, better still, call to mind the 
sharp pangs that have seized your heart while awaiting 
the fatal instant that must bring you proofs of unfaithful- 
ness in the woman you love, and you will have some 
idea of the tedious and melancholy manner in which that 
day dragged itself along, seeming like an eternity to the 
poor Prince de Conde. 

He therefore tried to put into practice that prescription 
of physicians and philosophers of all ages, — to fight 
weariness of mind with bodily fatigue. He ordered his 
fastest horse, mounted him, gave him the rein, or thought 
he did so, and at the end of fifteen minutes, horse and 
rider found themselves at Saint Cloud, to which place, 
however. Monsieur de Conde had entertained no intention 
of going when he started from his hotel. 

He wheeled his horse in the opposite direction. In 
an hour, he found himself on the same spot. The chfiteau 
of Saint Cloud was to him the magnetic mountain of the 
sailors in “ The Thousand and One Nights, ” to which 
their vessels, vainly striving to get away, repeatedly 
returned. 

The prescription of philosophers and physicians, in- 
fallible for others, produced no efi*ect, it would seem, on 
the Prince de Conde. In the evening he found himself 


THE SALLE DES METAMORPHOSES. 


147 


bruised in body, it is true, but as preoccupied in mind as 
he had been in the morning. 

Just as the evening was coming on, he returned home, 
pale, dejected, worn out. 

His valet brought him three letters, which he recog- 
nized as letters from the first ladies of the court, — he 
did not even open them. The same valet announced 
that a man had presented himself at the hotel, six times 
during the day, saying that he had most important com- 
munications for the prince, but refusing in spite of all 
entreaties to give his name, and the prince paid no more 
attention to the news than if he had said : “ Monseigneur, 
it is a fine day,” or “ It is raining, monseigneur.” 

He ascended to his bed-chamber and mechanically 
opened a book. But what book could dull the pain of 
the viper-fangs buried in his heart ? 

He cast himself on the bed; but, badly as he had slept 
on the preceding night, worn out as he was by the fatigue 
of the day’s hard riding, he called in vain upon the friend 
named Sleep, that, like other friends, is at our side in 
our days of prosperity, but stands aloof in our greatest 
need, that is, in adversity. 

At last, the expected hour arrived; the clock struck 
twelve ; the watchman passed, crying, — 

“ Midnight ! ” 

The prince donned his mantle, girded on his sword, 
secured his poniard, and went out. 

It is unnecessary to ask what direction he took. 

At ten minutes past midnight, he reached the gates of 
the Louvre. 

The sentinel had his orders, the prince had only to 
give his name, — he entered. 

A man was walking along the corridor upon which 
opened the door of the Salle des Metamorphoses. 


148 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


Conde hesitated a moment. The man’s hack was 
turned; hut at the noise made by the prince, he faced 
about, and our lover recognized Dandelot, who was wait- 
ing for him. 

“ Here I am, ” said he, “ ready, according to my prom- 
ise, to abet you against any lover or hushand in your 
way.” 

Conde, with a feverish hand, took that of his friend. 

“ Thanks ! ” he answered; but I have nothing to fear 
that I am aware of. I am not the man that is loved.” 

“ Then, why the devil do you come here ? ” asked 
Dandelot. 

“ To find out wlio is loved. — But, hush! some one is 
coming. ” 

“ Where 1 I see no one.” 

“ But I heard steps.” 

“ Morhleu ! ” said Dandelot, “ what acute ears a jealous 
man has! ” 

Conde drew his friend into a recess, and from there 
they saw moving along like a shadow some one who, hav- 
ing reached the door of the Salle des Metamorphoses, 
paused an instant, listened, looked about, and, hearing 
nothing, seeing nothing, pushed open the door and 
entered. 

“ That is not Mademoiselle de Saint Andre ! ” mur- 
mured the prince; “ this one is a head taller than she.” 

“ Then you are waiting for Mademoiselle de Saint 
Andre ? ” demanded Dandelot. 

“ Waiting for, no; lying in wait for, yes.” 

“ But why Mademoiselle de Saint Andre % ” 

“ Hush!” 

“ However, — ” 

“ Come, my dear Dandelot, to set your conscience at 
rest, take this billet ; guard it as the apple of your eye ; 


THE SALLE DES MIETAMORPHOSES. 


149 


read it at your leisure, and if by chance I do not discover 
this evening what I am in search of, try among all the 
handwritings that you know to find a mate for this one.” 

“ Can I communicate the contents to my brother ? ” 

“ He has already seen it ; do I have any secrets from 
him? Ah! I would give much to know who wrote 
that note.” 

“ To-morrow, I will return it to you.” 

“ No, I will come for it. Leave it with your brother; 
perhaps I shall have something to tell you myself — hut, 
stay, there is the same person coming out.” 

The shadowy apparition that had efitered the room 
was, in fact, leaving it, and was at this time advancing in 
the direction of the two friends. Fortunately, and prob- 
ably intentionally, the corridor was badly lighted, and 
the recess in which they stood kept them out of the way 
and concealed them in its darkness. 

But, by the quick and assured tread with which the 
apparition walked in spite of the obscurity, it was easily 
seen that the path pursued was a familiar one. 

Indeed, just as it passed the two friends, Monsieur de 
Conde seized Dandelot by the hand. 

“Lanoue! ” he murmured. 

Lanoue was one of Catherine de Medicis^s maids. Of 
all her women, she was said to be the queen-mother’s 
favorite and one in whom she placed the utmost 
confidence. 

What had she come there for, if not in the interests of 
the rendezvous indicated in the billet ? 

Besides, she had not closed the door, but had left it 
ajar; consequently, she meant to return. 

There was not a moment to lose; the next time the 
door would probably be closed. 

All these reflections passed like a flash through the 


150 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


prince’s brain. Again he seized Dandelot’s hand, and then 
he darted off toward the Salle des Metamorphoses. 

Dandelot made a movement to detain him, hut Conde 
was already far away. 

As he had expected, the door yielded to a slight pres- 
sure and he found himself in the room. 

This chamber, one of the finest in the Louvre before 
the petite galerie was commenced by Charles IX., bor- 
rowed its mythological name from the tapestries which 
covered its walls. 

In fact, legends of Perseus and Andromeda, of Medusa, 
of the god Pan,' of Apollo, and of Daphne formed the 
principal subjects of these pictures in which the needle 
more than once engaged in victorious contest with the 
brush. 

But the tapestry that especially attracted the attention, 
says a historian, represented the story of Jupiter and 
Danae. 

The Danae was fashioned by a hand so delicate and 
was so skillfully wrought, that one saw the rapture in 
her face on feeling, hearing, and beholding the golden 
shower. 

She, as if queen of the other tapestries, was lighted up 
by a silver lamp, carved, not cast in a mold, we are as- 
sured, by Benvenuto Cellini himself. And, indeed, who 
but the Florentine sculptor would have delighted in con- 
verting a block of silver into a vase of flowers from 
which luminous blossoms themselves issued the flames ? 

The tapestry of Danae covered the walls of an alcove, 
and the lamp, at the same time that it lighted up the im- 
mortal and pictured Danae, was destined to shine on all 
the real and mortal Danaes who, in the bed which it 
overhung, waited for the golden shower of the Jupiters 
of that terrestrial Olympus called the Louvre. 


THE SALLE DES M^TAMOKPHOSES. 


151 


The prince looked all around him, lifting curtains 
and portieres to assure himself that he was really alone ; 
then, after this careful inspection, he bestrode the balus- 
trade, crouched on the floor, and slipped under the bed. 

For those of our readers who are unfamiliar with the 
furniture of the sixteenth century, let us explain what the 
balustrade was. 

The railing made by the small posts framing a gallery 
was called a balustrade, and this was placed around beds 
to shut off the alcoves, as one sees them to-day in church 
or chapel choirs, and in the bed-chamber of Louis XIV., 
at Versailles. 

We had thought in digressing from Monsieur de Conde 
to the balustrade as abruptly as we have just done, that 
we should be acquitted by the reader from recording his 
thoughts, but on reflection, we prefer, instead of shirk- 
ing the difficulty, to go bravely ahead. 

And so, crouching on the floor, the prince, we said, 
slipped under the bed. 

Eh ! yes, without doubt, it was a ridiculous position, a 
position unworthy of a prince, especially when that prince 
is called the Prince de Conde. But what would you have ! 
It is not my fault if the Prince de Conde, young, hand- 
some, and in love, was so jealous that he placed himself 
in a ridiculous position; and as I find the fact chronicled 
of the prince in history, I may not be more fastidious 
than the historian. 

And your observation, dear reader, is so true, so sensi- 
ble, that barely was he under the bed, before the prince 
made the very reflections that you have just indulged in, 
and, reprimanding himself most severely, he asked him- 
self what sort of a figure he would cut if discovered there 
under the bed, were it only by a valet. What a series of 
jests and pasquinades he would furnish to his enemies! 


152 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


what disgrace he ran the risk of incurring in the eyes of 
his friends ! He went even so far as to fancy that he saw 
the admiral’s wrathful countenance emerge from the 
depths of the hangings; for when, child or man, we find 
ourselves in an equivocal situation, the person of whom we 
first think, and most dread to have appear and reproach 
us for our folly, is always the one whom we most love 
and respect, because that one is at the same time the one 
whom we most fear. 

The prince, therefore, administered to himself — we 
beg the scrupulous reader to be persuaded of this — every 
rebuke that a man of his character and condition could 
formulate under such circumstances; but the result of all 
his self-controversy was that he advanced twenty centi- 
metres, as they say to-day, further under the bed, and 
there established himself as comfortably as he was able. 

Besides, he had indeed something else to think about. 

He had to map out the line of conduct he Avas to pur- 
sue, when once the two lovers came in sight. 

What seemed to him the simplest course Avas to rush 
forth abruptly, and Avithout preamble to cross SAvords 
Avith his rival. 

But this line of action, apparently so simple, seemed 
to him on second thought to involve in danger, not only 
his person, but his honor. This companion, Avhoever he 
might be, was, it is true, an accomplice of Mademoiselle 
de Saint Andre’s coquetry, but a very innocent 
accomplice. 

Therefore he rejected his first plan, and resolved to 
observe and to listen coolly to the events about to take 
place within sight and hearing of a rival. 

He had just achieved this great act of renunciation, 
when the bell of his watch, which was very sonorous, 
suddenly aAvakened him to a danger which he had not 


TTIE SALLE DES M^ITAMORPHOSES. 


153 


foreseen. At that period, — the occupation of Charles 
V. at Saint Just proves it moreover, — at that period, 
watches and mantel-clocks were not only articles of lux- 
ury, but they were also capricious ones which worked 
much less in harmony with the mechanic’s intention than 
in accordance with their own whim. The result was 
that Monsieur de Conde’s watch, which was half an hour 
slower than the time of the Louvre, began to strike the 
hour of midnight. 

Monsieur de Conde, as we have already seen, was the 
victim of an unusual degree of impetuosity. Tearing lest, 
having finished striking, the watch might take a fancy to 
begin again, and that the tell-tale hell would denounce 
him, he took the indiscreet jewel in the hollow of his left 
hand, placed over it the hilt of his dagger, firmly pressed 
the hilt against the dial-plate, and, under the pressure 
which broke its double case, the innocent watch yielded 
up its last sigh. 

Man’s injustice was satisfied. 

This execution was barely ended when the door of the 
room again opened. Its noise drew the prince’s attention, 
and Monsieur de Conde saw Mademoiselle de Saint Andre 
with watchful eyes and listening ears following on tip-toe 
the odious creature called Lanoue. 


154 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


XIII. 

THE TOILET OF VENUS. 

When we say, following on tip-toe the odious creature 
called Lanoue, we err, not with regard to Lanoue, but 
to Mademoiselle de Saint Andre. 

Once within the Salle des Metamorphoses, Mademoi- 
selle de Saint Andre no longer followed Lanoue, she 
preceded her. 

Lanoue remained behind to close the door. 

The young girl stopped in frpnt of a dressing-table, 
on which stood two candelabra, which required, in order 
to shine forth in all their glory, hut the touch of fire 
that must give them life. 

“ Are you sure we have not been seen , my dear 
Lanoue?” she asked, in the sweet voice that, having 
thrilled the prince’s heart with love, now thrilled it 
with anger. 

‘‘Oh! fear nothing, mademoiselle,” answered the 
go-between. “ On account of the threatening letter ad- 
dressed to the king yesterday, the strictest orders have 
been issued, and, since ten o’clock this evening, the 
gates of the Louvre have been shut.” 

“ Against every one ? ” demanded the girl. 

“ Against every one.” 

“ Without exception? ” 

“ Without exception.” 

“ Even against the Prince de Conde ? ” 

Lanoue smiled. 


THE TOILET OF VENUS. 155 

“Against the Prince de Conde especially, made- 
moiselle.” 

“ Are yon quite certain of it, Lanoue? ” 

“Positive, mademoiselle.” 

“ Ah ! because — ” 

The young girl stopped. 

“ Why are you afraid of mon seigneur ? ” 

“ For many reasons, Lanoue.” 

“ For many reasons ? ” 

“ Yes, and for one above all others.” 

“ And that is — ? ” 

“ Lest he should follow me here.” 

“ Here ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Into the Salle des Metamorphoses ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ But how should he know that mademoiselle is 
here?” 

“He knows it, Lanoue.” 

The prince, as may be expected, listened with both 
ears. 

“ Who can have told him ? ” 

“I, myself.” 

“You?” 

“ Yes, fool that I was.” 

“ Oh ! mon Dieu ! ” 

“Imagine that last night, just as he was leaving me, 
I was so imprudent as to follow up a jest by tossing 
him my handkerchief; in that handkerchief was the 
little note you had just brought me.” 

“ But the note was not signed.” 

“ Ho, fortunately.” 

“ It is very fortunate, indeed, Jesu Maria I ” 

The go-between crossed herself devoutly. 


156 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ And,” pursued she, “ did you not ask for your hand- 
kerchief again ? ” 

‘‘Yes, indeed; Mezieres went to his house for me six 
times during the day. The prince had gone out in the 
morning, and at nine in the evening he had not 
returned. ” 

“ Aha! ” murmured the prince, “ it was the fisherman 
page who came to speak to me, and so strongly insisted 
on seeing me.” 

“ Have you confidence in the youth, mademoiselle? ” 

“ He is passionately devoted to me.” 

“Pages are very indiscreet; there is a proverb about 
them to that effect.” 

“Mezieres is not my page; he is my slave,” said the 
young girl, in the accents of a queen. “Ah! Lanoue, 
that detestable Monsieur de Conde! worse will never 
happen to him than I wish.” 

“Thanks! most beautiful of beauties,” murmured the 
prince. “ I will remember your kindly sentiments with 
regard to me.” 

“Well, mademoiselle,” returned Lanoue, “you can 
be at ease for to-night. I know the captain of the 
Scotch guard, and I will commend monseigneur to 
him.” 

“ In whose behalf ? ” 

“ My own ! Be at ease, that will suffice.” 

“ Aha! Lanoue! ” 

“ Why not, mademoiselle! while arranging the affairs 
of others, there is no harm in arranging one’s own.” 

“Thanks, Lanoue; for that idea alone spoiled the 
pleasure I had promised myself to enjoy to-night.” 

Lanoue prepared to depart. 

“ Oh ! Lanoue ! ” exclaimed Mademoiselle de Saint 
Andre, “ before going, light these candles, I beg of you. 


THE TOILET OF VENUS. 


157 


I cannot remain in this dim light. All these great half- 
naked figures frighten me; they seem to he leaving their 
tapestry and coming toward me.’’ 

“Ah! should they come,” said Lanoue, lighting a 
taper at the fire burning in the fireplace, “be reassured. 
They will come to adore you as the goddess Venus.” 

She lighted the five branches of the candelabra, leav- 
ing the beautiful girl, with a nimbus of flame, revealed 
to the prince’s gaze. 

She was adorable, reflected thus in the mirror of the 
dressing-table, robed in a transparent gauze, through 
which shone the pink-tinted flesh. 

She had in her hand a spray of myrtle-bloom; she 
arranged it in her hair like a crown. 

A priestess of Venus, she had decked herself with the 
sacred flower. 

Alone, then, or, at least, believing herself to be alone 
in the room, the girl gazed coquettishly and tenderly at 
her reflection in the glass, while the pink finger-tips 
arched the black, velvety eyebrows, and the palm of her 
hand patted her golden sheaf of hair. 

Thus adorned, and standing negligently before the 
mirror, in an attitude that set off her slender and supple 
figure, a fair creature, fresh as the water from a spring, 
rosy as a morning cloud, serene as maidenhood, as full 
of life and as tender as the earliest shoots of springtime, 
that, in their eagerness for life, pierce the late snows, 
she resembled Venus Cythersea, as Lanoue had said, — but 
Venus, in her fourteenth year, on the morning when, 
standing on the shore, ready to ascend to the celestial 
court, she regarded herself a last time in the mirroring 
sea, still cool from its recent touch. 

Having arched her brows, smoothed her hair, restored 
to her face by a moment’s rest the rose tints which an 


158 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


anxious and hurried walk had too warmly flushed, the 
young girl’s eyes wandered from the image of her face, 
reflected by the mirror, to her person; they descended 
to her neck, to her shoulders, and seemed to seek her 
breast, lost in the billows of fluffy lace, as light as the 
vaporous clouds that the first puff of wind drives from 
the sky. 

She Avas so beautiful thus, with limpid eyes, blush- 
ing cheeks, half-open mouth, and teeth shining like 
twin rows of pearls in a coral casket, — she was so com- 
plete an image of voluptuousness, that the prince, for- 
getful of her coquetry, his own hatred, his threats, was, 
at the moment, on the point of leaving his retreat, and 
throwing himself at her feet, crying, — 

“ For the love of Heaven ! girl, love me for an hour, 
and take my life in return for an hour of love ! ” 

Fortunately, or unfortunately for him, — we have not 
weighed the advantages and disadvantages that he must 
have experienced had he followed up that sudden im- 
pulse, — the girl turned toward the door, murmuring, 
in broken accents, — 

“ Ah ! heart’s beloved, are you not coming? ” 

At that exclamation all the prince’s wrath returned, 
and Mademoiselle de Saint A.ndre again seemed to him 
the most hateful creature on earth. 

She went to the nearest window, drew aside the thick 
curtains, and tried to open the heavy casement; hut her 
delicate, tapering fingers lacking the strength for such a 
task, she contented herself with leaning her head against 
the thick glass. 

The sensation of coolness communicated to her fore- 
head made her open her eyes, which were drooping in 
languor. For an instant they remained vague and sight- 
less; then gradually they began to distinguish objects, 


THE TOILET OF VENUS. 


159 


and finally became fixed npon a man enveloped in a 
cloak, and standing motionless, at the distance of a 
stone’s throw from the Louvre. 

The sight of that man caused Mademoiselle de Saint 
Andre to smile, and, without doubt, had the prince seen 
the smile, he would have guessed the wicked thought 
that prompted it. 

Besides, had he been near enough to see the smile, he 
would have been near enough, also, to hear the words 
that came in triumphant accents from the girl’s lips, — 

“ It is he ! ” 

Then, in indescribably sarcastic tones, she added, — 

“Proceed with your walk, dear Monsieur de Conde. 
I wish you great joy of your promenade.” 

Evidently Mademoiselle de Saint Andre took the 
man in the cloak for the Prince de Conde. 

And the mistake was quite natural. 

Mademoiselle de Saint Andre knew perfectly well of 
the visits which the prince had paid, incognito, under 
her window every evening for the last three months, 
but Mademoiselle de Saint Andre had taken great care 
not to speak of the matter to the prince; for, to say that 
she had seen him was to confess that for the last three 
months she had secretly entertained a thought which, 
on the contrary, she had disclaimed openly. 

Mademoiselle de Saint Andre therefore believed it 
was the prince whom she saw at the water’s edge. 

Now, the sight of the Prince de Conde walking on 
the bank of the river, when she had been trembling in 
dread of meeting him in the Louvre, was the most reas- 
suring sight that the moon, that pale and melancholy 
friend of lovers, could reveal to her. 

However, to our readers, who know perfectly well 
that the prince, not being endowed with the gift of 


160 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


ubiquity, could not be within and without the palace 
at the same time, under the bed and on the bank of 
the river, let us hasten to declare who this man was, 
wrapped in his mantle, and taken by Mademoiselle de 
Saint Andre for the prince, whom she supposed to be 
shivering on the bank. 

This man was our Huguenot of the day before, — our 
Scotchman, Kobert Stuart, — who, instead of receiving 
the response to his letter that he expected, had learned 
that messieurs, the councillors of parliament, had so 
arranged everything during the day, that the execution 
of Anne Dubourg would take place on the next day, or 
the day following. It was Hobert Stuart, who had 
resolved to risk a second attempt. 

It was in virtue of this resolution that, just as that 
wicked smile overspread the maiden’s lips, she saw the 
man on the bank draw his arm from under his cloak, 
make a gesture, which she took for a threatening one, 
and set off at full speed. 

At the same time she heard a crash like that of the 
evening before, that is, of a shattered window-pane. 

“ Ah! ” she cried, “ it was not he.” 

And the roses of her smiling lips immediately van- 
ished under the tints of the violets. 

Oh! this time she really trembled, no longer with 
delight but with terror; and, letting the window-cur- 
tain fall, she returned, tottering and pale, and leaned 
upon the back of the sofa, on which, a few moments 
before, she lay so languidly extended. 

As on the night before, a pane had been broken in 
one of the Marechal de Saint Andre’s windows. 

But this time it was a window on the side at right 
angles to the Seine; yet that window, likewise, belonged 
to her father’s apartment. 


THE TOILET OF VENUS. 


161 


If, as on the night before, the marechal, whether still 
sitting up or already gone to bed, and awakened with a 
start, should go and knock at his daughter’s door and 
receive no response, what would happen? 

There she stood, fearing, trembling, half-fainting, to 
the great amazement of the prince, who, without being 
able to divine its cause, had perceived the sudden change 
wrought on the face of the girl, who was in that stage 
of prostration in which any certainty is preferable to 
uncertainty. Then the door opened, and Lanoue hur- 
riedly entered. 

Her countenance was almost as disconcerted as the 
girl’s. 

“Oh! Lanoue,” said the latter, “do you know what 
has just happened?” 

“Ho, mademoiselle,” replied the maid; “but it must 
be something very dreadful, for you are as pale as a 
corpse.” 

“Very dreadful, indeed, and you must take me at 
once to my father’s apartment.” 

“ And why, mademoiselle ? ” 

“ Do you not know what happened yesterday at mid- 
night ? ” 

“ Does mademoiselle refer to the stone that was tied 
in a paper, which threatened the king? ” 

“Yes. Well, the same thing has just happened 
again, Lanoue. A man, the same, doubtless, that 1 took 
for the Prince de Conde, came, as he did last night, 
and threw a stone, breaking one of the marechal ’s 
windows. ” 

“ And you are afraid ? ” 

“I am afraid, — pray understand, Lanoue, — I am 
afraid that my father will go and knock at my door, 
and that, receiving no answer, he may, from sus- 
11 


162 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


picion or uneasiness, open it, and find the room 
empty. ” 

“ Oh ! if that is your only fear, mademoiselle,” said 
Lanoue, “ be reassured.” 

“ Why ? ” 

“ Your father is with Queen Catherine.” 

“ With the queen, at one o’clock in the morning? ” 

“ Ah! mademoiselle, a serious accident has happened.” 
“What is it?” 

“ Their Majesties were out hunting to-day.” 

“ Well ? ” 

“ Well, mademoiselle, the horse of the little queen,” 
— thus was Marie Stuart spoken of, — “ the horse of the 
little queen stumbled. Her Majesty fell, and, as she has 
been with child for three months, it is feared that she 
is injured.” 

“Ah! honDieu!^^ 

“ And so the entire court is astir. ” 

“ I should think so, indeed.” 

“ And all the maids of honor are in the antechamber 
or with the queen-mother. ” 

“ And you did not come to tell me, Lanoue ? ” 

“ I learned the news this very moment, mademoiselle, 
and took time only to run and assure myself of its 
truth.” 

“ Then you have seen him ? ” 

“ Whom ? ” 

“ Him!” 

“ Certainly.” 

“ Well ? ” 

“Well, mademoiselle, the affair is postponed; you 
can well understand that he could not be absent at such 
a moment.” 

“ And postponed to what time ? ” 


THE TOILET OF VENUS. 


163 


Till to-morrow. ” 

“Where?” 

“ Here.” 

“ At the same hour ? ” 

“At the same hour.” 

“Then, come away quickly, Lanoue.” 

“ Eeady, mademoiselle; only let me extinguish the 
candles.” 

“Keally,” cried the young girl, “one would think 
some evil genius at work against us.” 

“Nonsense!” said Lanoue, blowing out the last 
candle; “quite the contrary.” 

“ How quite the contrary ? ” demanded Mademoiselle 
de Saint Andre from the corridor. 

“ Certainly ; this accident gives you the greater 
freedom. ” 

And she followed the footsteps of Mademoiselle de 
Saint Andre, — footsteps whose echo was very soon 
lost in the depths of the corridor, as was that of her 
companion’s. 

“ To-morrow, then! ” declared the prince, in turn, as 
he emerged from his retreat, and cleared the balustrade, 
quite as ignorant of his rival’s name as he had been 
the day before. “To-morrow, the day after to-morrow, 
every day, if needs he ; but, by the soul of my father ! 
I will follow to the end.” 

And he, too, left the Salle des Metamorphoses, pro- 
ceeded down the corridor, in the direction opposite to 
that taken by Mademoiselle de Saint Andre and Lanoue, 
crossed the court, and gained the street, without any 
one’s dreaming, amid "the confusion into which the 
Louvre had been thrown by the two incidents men- 
tioned by us above, of asking whither he went or 
whence he came. 


164 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


XIV. 

TWO SCOTCHMEN. 

Kobert Stuart, whom Mademoiselle de Saint Andre 
had seen from the window of the Salle des Metamor- 
phoses, so quickly and so strangely returned to the 
darkness, — Eobert Stuart, whom the girl had so mali- 
ciously apostrophized as the Prince de Conde, after cast- 
ing his second stone, and by that means causing a second 
letter to reach the king, had, as we have said, taken to 
flight, and disappeared. 

As far as the Chatelet, he had hastened his steps ; but 
having reached that point, he felt himself beyond pur- 
suit, and, apart from encountering two or three cut- 
throats on the bridge, who kept their distance at sight 
of the sword tapping his heels, and the pistol suspended 
from his belt, he had returned quietly enough to the 
quarters of his friend and compatriot, Patrick. 

Once there, he had gone to bed with an appearance of 
composure that he owed to self-control; but his self- 
control, great as it was, had no power over sleep. Con- 
sequently, for three or four hours he turned and tossed 
in his bed, or, rather, in his compatriot’s bed, without 
securing the repose that had deserted him for three 
nights. 

Only at daybreak did the mind, vanquished by 
fatigue, seem to forsake the body and allow Sleep to 
come and take its place for a brief space of time. And 
then the body so completely succumbed to Sleep, the 


TWO SCOTCHMEN. 


165 


brother of Death, that any one might have thought him 
a corpse, so profound was his lethargy. 

Until evening, moreover, of the preceding day, faith- 
ful to his word, he had waited for his friend Patrick; 
but the archer, detained at the Louvre by his captain, 
who had been ordered not to allow a single man to leave 
the palace, — the reason of this order is known, — the 
archer, we say, had not been able to profit by Eobert 
Stuart’s clothes. 

Having no news of his friend by seven o’clock in the 
evening, Robert Stuart had- proceeded to the Louvre, 
and there he had learned of the strict orders that had 
been issued, and the cause of them. 

After that, he had wandered about the streets of 
Paris, where he had heard a hundred different versions 
— not one being correct — of the assassination of Presi- 
dent Minard, whose death had rendered him more illus- 
trious than any act of his life. 

Taking pity on the ignorance of some and the curi- 
osity of others, Eobert Stuart had in turn related — on 
hearsay, but from a reliable source he assured them — 
the story of that death in all its veracious details, and 
with the actual circumstances attending- it; but it is 
unnecessary to add that his hearers would not consent 
to believe a single word of his narration. 

We have no reason to assign for their incredulity save 
that this account was the only truthful one. 

He had, moreover, learned of the promptness and 
severity which the parliament was prepared to exercise 
with regard to the judgment rendered in the case of 
Councillor Dubourg, whose execution, he was assured, 
would take place at the Greve within forty-eight 
hours. 

Then Eobert Stuart had seen no other remedy for 


166 


THE HOEOSOOPE. 


this obstinacy on the part of the judges than to renew 
still more pointedly his appeal to the king. 

At the end of his watch, his friend Patrick, having 
at last been released from the Louvre, had come with 
all the speed of his legs, had climbed his ladder, as he 
called it, had invaded the room, shouting, — 

« Eire! ” 

He had decided that this was the only way to awaken 
Kobert Stuart, since the noise he had made in shutting 
the door, and moving the chairs, and shifting the table 
were insufficient to rouse him from his slumber. 

The yell given by Patrick, much more than the sense 
of his words, at last awakened Robert; the sound reached 
him, but not the idea. His first thought was that men 
were coming to arrest him, and he reached for his sword, 
which stood between his bedside and the wall , and drew 
it half out of its sheath. 

“Eh! there, there! ” cried Patrick, laughing; “you 
seem to wake in a disputatious mood. Come, easy now ; 
and wake up, it is time.” 

“ Ah! it is you,” said Stuart. 

“ Of course it is I. I will lend you my room again, 
depend upon it, that you may kill me when I return ! ” 

“ Come ! I was asleep. ” 

“So I see, and that is what amazes me; you were 
asleep — ? ” 

Patrick went to the window and drew the curtains. 

Broad daylight flooded the room. ^ 

“ There,” said he, “look.” 

“ What time is if? ” asked Stuart. 

“Past ten o’clock by all the steeples of Paris,” said 
the archer. 

“ I waited for you all day yesterday, and even all 
night I may say.” 


TWO SCOTCHMEN. 


167 


The archer shrugged his shoulders. 

“ How can I help that ? ” said he. “ A soldier is only 
a soldier, if he is a Scotch bowman. We were stationed 
at the Louvre all day and all night; hut, to-day, as you 
see, I am at liberty.” 

“ Which means that you come to reclaim your room.” 

“ No, to claim your clothes.” 

“ Ah ! true; I had forgotten Madame la Conseillere.” 

“ Happily she has not forgotten me, as can he proved 
by this game-pie standing here on the table and waiting 
the good pleasure of our appetites. Is yours on hand ? 
As to mine, it was at its post two hours ago, answering, 
— present ! ” 

“ But to come back to my clothes — ” 

“All right! Well, you understand that my con- 
seillere does not come all at once to my fourth story. 
No, this pie is only a messenger; it was the bearer of a 
letter saying that I shall be expected from noon, the 
hour when our councillor sets sail for the Parliament, 
until four o’clock, when he makes the conjugal port 
again. At five minutes past twelve I shall be vuth her, 
and I will reward her devotion by presenting myself in 
a costume that cannot compromise her, — if, that is, 
you are still in the same mind with regard to your 
friend. ” 

“My clothes are at your disposal, my dear Patrick,” 
said Kobert; “laid out on the chair, as you see, and 
waiting only for an owner. Give me yours in exchange, 
and do what you like with those.” 

“ All in good time; but, let us first discuss this pie. 
It is not necessary for you to rise in order to engage in 
the discussion; I will carry the table over to the side of 
your bed. There! does that suit ? ” 

“ Wonderfully, my dear Patrick.” 


168 


THE HOKOSCOPE. 


“ Now,” — Patrick drew his poniard and presented it, 
handle first, to his friend, — “ now, while I go to look 
for something to wash him down, disembowel that fel- 
low, and tell me whether Madame la Conseillere is a 
woman of taste.” 

Eobert obeyed the command as promptly as the Scotch 
archer himself could have obeyed one from his captain; 
and when Patrick returned to the table, caressing, with 
both hands, the plump belly of a jug full of wine, he 
found the dome of the gastronomical edifice completely 
carried away. 

“Ah! by Saint Dunstan! ” said he, “a hare lodged 
in a nest of six partridges ! What a fine country, this, 
where feathers and fur live in such sweet harmony ! 
The ‘ Land of Cocagne,’ does not Messire Eahelais call 
it? Eobert, my friend, follow my example: make love 
to a lawyer’s dame, my dear fellow, instead of a sol- 
dier’s, and we shall not need to see seven fat kine in a 
dream, as Pharaoh did, in order to foretell a bounteous 
harvest of the good things of heaven and earth. Let 
us profit by them, my dear Stuart, or we shall prove 
unworthy of possessing them.” 

And, adding example to precept, the archer took his 
place at the table, and transferred to his plate a first 
ration of the pie that did credit to what he called the 
advance-guard of his appetite. 

Eobert ate also. At twenty-four a man always eats, 
whatever may be the mind’s preoccupation. 

He ate, therefore, more silently, more abstractedly, 
indeed, than his friend, — hut he ate. 

Besides, the thought of visiting Madame la Conseillere 
rendered Patrick gay enough and talkative enough for 
two. 

Half-past eleven sounded. 


TWO SCOTCHMEN. 


169 


Patrick rose from the table in all haste, crunched in 
his teeth, as white as those of his Highland wolf, a last 
morsel of the meat-pie’s golden crust, drank a last glass of 
wine, and began to put on the clothes of his compatriot. 

Dressed thus, he presented the odd and stiff appear- ' 
ance the soldiers of our day also have when they ex- 
change their uniforms for the citizen’s dress. 

A soldier’s face and bearing, indeed, always contract 
something from his uniform, which betrays him where- 
ever he may go, and in whatever costume he may 
appear. 

The archer, thus arrayed, was nevertheless a hand- 
some cavalier, with blue eyes, red hair, and fresh, lively 
color. 

As he regarded himself in the fragment of mirror, he 
seemed to be saying, — 

“ If Madame la Conseillere is not pleased, by my 
faith, she is very hard to suit ! ” 

However, having some misgivings, perhaps, or wish- 
ing, possibly, to hear Robert second his own opinion, 
he turned to his companion and demanded, — 

" How do I look, comrade ? ” 

“Why, the very perfection of face and figure; and I 
have no doubt that you will make a profound impression 
on Madame la Conseillere.” 

It was exactly what Patrick wished, and he was 
served to his heart’s desire. 

He smiled, settled his neck, and, holding out his 
hand to Robert, said, — 

“ Well, I must hasten to reassure her, for she must 
be worried to death, poor woman ! she has not seen me 
nor had news of me for two days ! ” 

He moved toward the door; but, arresting himself, 
he added, — 


170 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


"By the way, I need not tell you that my uniform 
does not condemn you to stay within doors. You are 
not confined to my fourth floor, as I was yesterday at 
the Louvre. You can circulate freely throughout the city 
in the broad sunshine, if there is any, or in the shade 
if there is not, and, provided that you get into no seri- 
ous quarrel while in my uniform, — and I caution you 
against this for two reasons: first, because you would 
he arrested, conducted to the Chatelet, and recognized; 
secondly, because I, your innocent friend, should be 
punished for having abandoned my uniform, — provided, 
I repeat, that you get into no serious quarrel while in 
my old clothes, you are as free as a house-sparrow.” 

“You have nothing to fear on that score, Patrick,” 
answered the Scotchman ; “ I am not naturally of a very 
quarrelsome disposition.” 

“Ah! ah I ” exclaimed the archer, shaking his head, 
“ I would not be too sure of it. You are a Scotchman, or 
as good as one, and, like every man reared on the other 
side of the Tweed, you must have moods when it is not 
safe to look black at you. Besides, you understand, I 
am giving you advice, that is all. I say, pick no quar- 
rels; but, if others pick one with you, by my patron 
saint, don’t shirk it! The deuce! the honor of the 
uniform is then at stake, and if you cannot kill them 
fast enough, you have there, mark it well, a dirk and a 
claymore that will leap from the sheath of themselves.” 

“Best easy, Patrick; you will find me here as you 
have left me.” 

“Why, no, no ! I do not wish you to be bored,” 
insisted the obstinate Highlander. “ You will die of 
inanition in this room, from which the view is not dis- 
agreeable in the evening, because you do not see it, but 
where nothing is to be seen in the daytime but roofs 


TWO SCOTCHMEN. 171 

and steeples, and those only when the smoke and fog 
do not interfere.” 

“ Still, it is as good as our own blessed country, where 
it always rains,” remarked Robert. 

“ Nonsense ! ” said Patrick, “ and when does it snow, 
then ? ” 

And, satisfied with having set the Scotchman right 
as to his meteorology, Patrick at last decided to depart; 
but on the landing he stopped, and, opening the door 
again, he said, — 

“ That was all a joke; go, come, run, dispute, quarrel, 
fight; if only you return with no holes in your skin, 
and, consequently, in my doublet, all will be well. But, 
ray dear friend, I have one serious injunction to impress 
on you, only one, but, ponder it well.” 

“ What is it?” 

“ My friend, in view of the gravity of the times in 
which we live, and the threats that the infamous Bap- 
tists take the liberty of addressing to the king, I am 
obliged to be at the Louvre exactly at eight o’clock; 
roll-call this evening comes an hour earlier.” 

“ You will find me here on your return.” 

“ Then, God bless you ! ” 

“ And joy go with you! ” 

“ Useless,” said the archer, moving off with the air of 
a conquering lover; “ it awaits me.” 

And this time he departed, as gay and vanquishing as 
the handsomest courtier, humming one of his native airs 
that must have dated back to the days of Robert Bruce. 

The poor soldier was certainly much happier at that 
moment than the cousin of the French king, the brother 
of the King of Navarre, the young and handsome Louis 
de Conde. 

We shall know in a moment, however, what the 


172 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


prince was doing and saying just at this time ; but we 
are obliged to remain a little longer in the company of 
Master Robert Stuart. 

The latter bad, as be bad assured his friend, two 
serious subjects for reflection. So that he did not suffer 
from ennui until four o’clock in the afternoon; he 
therefore kept his word by waiting for him. 

From four o’clock to five he still waited, hut with 
greater impatience. 

It was the hour at which he had intended to wait at 
the door of parliament to gain fresh news, not of the 
sentencing of Councillor Dubourg, hut of the decision 
reached with regard to his execution. 

At half-past five he could endure it no longer, and 
went out, in turn, leaving a note, however, for his com- 
patriot, telling him not to be uneasy, and that at seven 
in the evening, punctually, his uniform should be 
returned. 

Night was beginning to fall; Robert ran all the way 
to the entrance of the Palais. 

There was an immense gathering in the square; 
parliament was still sitting. 

This explained the absence of his friend Patrick; hut 
it did not tell him what was the subject of discussion 
within. 

Not until six o’clock did the councillors disperse. 

The news that reached Robert as to the result of the 
session was inauspicious. 

The mode of punishment was determined, — the coun- 
cillor must die at the stake. 

However, it was not known whether the execution 
would take place on the next day, the day after, or the 
day following. 

Perhaps there would even be a delay of several days, 


TWO SCOTCHMEN. 173 

SO that the poor queen, Marie Stuart, who had been 
injured the day before, could he present. 

But this would happen only in case the injury were 
slight enough to delay the execution not more than a 
week. 

E-obert Stuart left the Place du Palais, intending to 
return to the Bue du Battoir-Saint- Andre. 

However, in the distance he saw a Scotch bowman, 
who, in advance of the time for roll-call, was returning 
to the Louvre. 

Thereupon, the idea occurred to him to enter the 
Louvre in his friend’s costume, and there, from a reli- 
able source, gain news of the young queen, whose health 
was to have such a terrible influence over the life of the 
condemned. 

He had almost two hours before him; he turned in 
the direction of the Louvre. 

He met with no difficulty, at either the first or the 
second entrance. He found himself, therefore, in the 
court. 

He was barely within, when a messenger from the 
parliament was announced. 

The messenger from the parliament desired, in the 
name of the illustrious body which he represented, to 
speak with the king. 

Dandelot was summoned. 

Dandelot went to receive the king’s commands. 

Ten minutes later he returned, himself, charged to 
bring in the councillor. 

Eobert well knew that after the councillor had gone, 
with a little patience and skill he could learn what he 
desired to know. He therefore waited. 

The councillor remained for nearly an hour with the 
king. 


174 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


Eobert bad already waited so long that he was resolved 
to wait till the end. 

Finally, the councillor departed. 

Dandelot, who was accompanying him, looked very 
sad, more than sad, — gloomy. 

In a low voice he spoke a few words in the ear of the 
captain of the Scotch guard, and retired. 

The words evidently had some connection with the 
councillor’s embassy. 

“ Messieurs,” said the captain of the Scotch guard to 
his men, “ you are notified that on the day after to- 
morrow you are detailed for special duty at the Greve, 
on the execution of Councillor Anne Dubourg.” 

Eobert Stuart had learned what he wished to know. 
He therefore took a few rapid strides toward the door, 
but he undoubtedly thought better of it, for he stopped 
suddenly, and, after some moments of profound medita- 
tion, he turned, and became lost among his companions, 
— an easy matter, considering the number of men and 
the darkness of the night. 


WHAT MAY HAPPEN UNDER A BED. 175 


XV. 


WHAT MAY HAPPEN UNDER A BED. 

When entering the Salle des Metamorphoses, the Prince 
de Conde had arranged to meet Dandelot at the house of 
his brother, the admiral, at noon of the next day. 

The prince was so impatient to relate the events of 
the night to Coligny, and especially to Dandelot, 
younger and less serious than his brother, that he 
reached the Pue Bethisy before the stated hour. 

Dandelot, for his part, had preceded the prince. 
Since one o’clock, he had been with Coligny, and the 
love affair of Mademoiselle de Saint Andre had been 
more seriously considered by these two grave minds 
than it had been by the prince and Dandelot. 

The alliance of the Marechal de Saint Andre with 
the Guises was not only an alliance of family with 
family, but it was, moreover, a religious and political 
league formed against the Calvinist party; and the way 
in which they were proceeding with regard to the coun- 
cillor, Anne Dubourg, showed that they were not dis- 
posed to deal leniently with reformers. 

The two brothers had grown weary over Mademoiselle 
de Saint Andre’s note. They had racked their memories 
in vain, hut neither had recognized the handwriting, 
and they had sent it to Madame I’Amirale, shut up in 
her room, where she was performing her devotions, to 
see if her memory was more reliable than her husband’s 
and her brother-in-law’s. 


176 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


Under any other circumstances, Dandelot, and more 
especially Coligny, would have opposed their cousin, 
the Prince de Conde, in his pursuit of this venturesome 
folly; but the most upright hearts make certain capitu- 
lations of conscience when they think themselves obliged 
to yield to stress of circumstances. 

Kow, it was very important to the Calvinist party 
that Monsieur de Joinville should not espouse Made- 
moiselle de Saint Andre; and, unless Mademoiselle de 
Saint Andre’s rendezvous was with Monsieur le Prince 
de Joinville, which was improbable, it was more than 
certain that Monsieur de Conde, granting that he made 
a discovery, would create so great a stir about it that 
the scandal would reach the ears of the Guises, and a 
rupture ensue. 

More than this, according to all probability, from 
such indiscretion on the part of the prince, some humil- 
iation must arise for him; then, wavering between the 
Catholic and the Calvinist faiths, the prince, drawn on 
by Coligny and Dandelot, would perhaps decide in favor 
of Protestantism. 

Often a man is worth more to a party than a victory. 

Now, he was not only a man, but a victorious one, 
was this handsome, brave young prince. 

Therefore they awaited him at the Hotel Coligny with 
an impatience that he himself was far from suspecting. 

He arrived, as we have said, before the appointed 
hour, and, on the invitation of the two brothers to 
make a general confession , he began a recital , in which, 
let us say in honor of his veracity, he concealed from 
his hearers nothing of what had happened to him. 

He related all he had seen and heard, without omit- 
ting a single detail, even confessing from what vantage- 
ground he had seen and heard what he was relating. 


WHAT MAY HAPPEN UNDER A BED. 


177 


Like a man of spirit, the prince had begun by laugh- 
ing at himself, in order to forestall the others, since 
they, finding it already done, would be the less likely 
to laugh at his expense. 

“And now,” demanded the admiral, when the prince 
had concluded his recital, “what do you intend to 
do?” 

“ Pardieu I ” said Conde, “ a very simple thing, in 
which I rely on you more than ever, my dear Dandelot, 
— to renew my expedition.” 

The two brothers glanced at each other. 

The prince was concurring in their plans; however, 
Coligny believed himself in honor bound to raise a few 
objections. 

But at the first word he ventured toward dissuading 
the prince, the latter placed his hand on his friend’s 
arm, saying, — 

“ My dear admiral, if you are not of my mind on this 
subject, let us talk of something else, as my determina- 
tion is fixed, and it would cost me too great an effort to 
engage in a determined struggle against the man I love 
more and respect more than any one else in the world, 
that is, against you.” 

The admiral bowed his head like a man who is 
resigned to what he feels himself powerless to combat; 
but, at the bottom of his heart, he was enchanted with 
his cousin’s obstinacy. 

It was then agreed that on this night, as on the 
preceding one, Dandelot should facilitate the prince’s 
entrance to the Salle des Metamorphoses. 

Their rendezvous was set for a quarter of an hour 
before midnight, in the same corridor as on the preceding 
night. 

The pass- word was confided to the prince, that he 
12 


178 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


might enter without difficulty. He then claimed his 
note. 

Thereupon, the admiral confessed to the prince that, 
neither he nor his brother having been able to recognize 
the handwriting, he had sent the billet to Madame 
I’Amirale, upon whom he did not dare intrude at that 
hour, as she was at her devotions. 

Dandelot took it upon himself to demand it of his 
sister-in-law on that same evening, at Queen Catherine’s 
levee, and the admiral charged himself with advising 
his wife that she was to take the billet with her to the 
Louvre. 

These several points settled upon, Dandelot and the 
prince took leave of the admiral, Dandelot to return to 
his post, the prince to return home. 

The remainder of the day passed as slowly and intol- 
erably to the latter as had the previous day. 

At last the hours wore away, one after the other, and 
half-past eleven came in its turn. 

We know the evening’s topic of conversation from 
having followed the course of Robert Stuart three hours 
before the prince’s entrance to the palace. 

Nothing was talked of but the execution of Councillor 
Dubourg, which the king had set for the day following 
the morrow. 

The prince found Dandelot greatly depressed; but, as 
this execution was, on the whole, indisputable evidence 
of the power which Monsieur de Guise, the avowed 
persecutor of Anne Dubourg, enjoyed with the king, 
Dandelot was only the more desirous of witnessing the 
accomplishment of the humiliation with which Mon- 
sieur de Joinville was threatened, and of raising, at 
least, the laugh of ridicule in the very midst of his 
enemies’ bloody triumph. 


WHAT MAY HAPPEN UNDER A BED. 


179 


As on the preceding night, the corridor was plunged 
in gloom ; as before , the Salle des Metamorphoses was 
lighted only by the silver lamp; and again the cande- 
labra awaited but a command to illuminate afresh the 
fascinating beauty upon which they had shone the night 
before. 

But this time the balustrade of the alcove was open. 

That was a bit of confirmatory evidence that the ren- 
dezvous had not been countermanded. 

And, believing that he heard footsteps in the cor- 
ridor, the prince quickly dived under the bed, without 
taking the trouble to engage in the same reflections on 
that evening as on the night before, — which goes to 
prove that one gets accustomed to everything, even to 
hiding under beds. 

The prince was not deceived. He had, indeed, heard 
footsteps in the corridor, and the footsteps were cer- 
tainly in quest of the Salle des Metamorphoses; for 
they paused at the entrance, and the prince heard a 
slight creaking of the door as it turned on its hinges. 

“Excellent!” he thought. “Our lovers are more 
eager than yesterday , — which is quite simple : they 
have not seen each other for twenty -four hours.” 

The steps advanced lightly, as of a person who enters 
by stealth. 

The prince craned his neck, and saw the two bare 
legs of an archer of the Scotch guard. 

“Oh! oh!” thought the prince; “what does this 
mean 1 ” 

And, by craning his neck a little further, above the 
legs he saw the body. 

He had made no mistake, for it was really an archer 
of the Scotch guard who had just entered. 

But the new-comer seemed quite as much at a loss as 


180 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


lie himself had been on the night before. As the prince 
had done, he lifted curtains and table-covers; but, in 
all probability, none of these affording him a refuge 
sufficiently safej he approached the bed, and, like the 
prince, considering the hiding-place a good one, he crept 
in under the side opposite to that under which Monsieur 
de Conde himself had just crept. 

However, before the Scotchman had found time to 
make himself at home under the bed, he felt the point 
of a dagger pressed against his heart, while a low voice 
said in his ear, — 

“ I do not know who you are, nor what purpose brings 
you here, but, not a word, not a move, or you are a dead 
man ! ” 

“ I do not know who you are, nor what purpose brings 
you here,” retorted the new-comer in the same tone; 
“ but I accept conditions from no man. Therefore thrust 
in your dagger, if it suits you; it is in the right 
place. I am not afraid to die.” 

“ Ah! ah! ” exclaimed the prince, “you appear to be 
a brave man, and brave men are always welcome with 
me. I am the Prince de Conde, monsieur, and I restore 
my weapon to its sheath. I hope you will return my 
confidence and tell me whg you are.” 

“I am a Scotchman, monseigneur; my name is 
Kobert Stuart.” 

“ The name is unknown to me, monsieur.” 

The Scotchman was silent. 

“ Will you be kind enough,” pursued the prince, “ to 
tell me your purpose in coming to this room, and why 
you are hiding under the bed 1 ” 

“You have set the example of frankness, monsei- 
gneur; would it not be worthy of you to continue and 
tell me why you are here yourself ? ” 


WHAT MAY HAPPEN UNDER A BED. 


181 


“ Faith, monsieur, it is a simple matter,” responded 
the prince, as he settled himself in a more comfortable 
position than he had at first assumed. “ I am in love 
with Mademoiselle de Saint Andre.” 

“ The marechaFs daughter? ” asked the Scot. 

“ Quite right, monsieur, with her. Now, having 
indirectly learned that she had a rendezvous here this 
evening with a lover, I was seized with a culpable curi- 
osity to learn who the happy mortal may be that enjoys 
the good graces of the estimable demoiselle, and I have 
poked myself under this bed, where I am very uncom- 
fortable, I confess. Your turn, monsieur.” 

“ Monseigneur, it shall not be said that a stranger has 
less confidence in a prince than the prince in a stranger. 
I am the man who, last night and the night before, 
wrote to the king.” 

“ Ah ! morhleu ! and posted your letters through the 
window-panes of the Marechal de Saint Andre’s apart- 
ment ? ” 

“ The very man. ” 

“ Your pardon! ” said the prince; “ but you then — ” 

" Well, monseigneur? ” 

“ If I rightly recall, in that letter, in the first one at 
least, you threatened the king ? ” 

“ Yes, monseigneur, if he refused to set Councillor 
Dubourg at liberty.” 

“ And, to render your threat the more alarming, you 
added that it was you who had killed President 
Minard,” continued the prince, disconcerted enough at 
finding himself cheek by jowl with a man who had 
written such a letter. 

“ I did, indeed, monseigneur, kill President Minard,” 
replied the Scotchman, without the other’s remarking 
the least change in his tone. 


182 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ Perhaps you would dare do violence to the king. ” 

“ I am here for that purpose. ” 

“For that purpose?” cried the prince, forgetting 
where he was, and the danger of being overheard. 

“Yes, monseigneur; but I would remind you that 
Your Highness speaks rather loud, and that our hazard- 
ous position demands that we speak low.” 

“ You are right,” returned the prince. 

“Yes, morbleu ! monsieur, let us speak low; for we 
are talking of things that sound ill in a palace like the 
Louvre.” 

And, in fact, lowering his voice, he continued, — 

“ Peste ! it is very fortunate for His Majesty that I 
chance to be here, although I came on other business.” 

“ Then you purpose interfering with my plan? ” 

“ I should think so ! A pretty business, that you 
should attack a king to prevent a councillor’s being 
burned! ” 

“ This councillor is the most upright man on earth. ” 

“ It does not signify 1 ” 

“ This councillor, monseigneur, is my father! ” 

“ Ah! that is another thing. Well, then, it is very 
fortunate, not only for the king, but for yourself, that 
we have met.” 

“ Why ? ” 

“You shall see — Pardon, but did I not hear — ? 
No, I mistake. — Do you ask why our meeting is 
fortunate ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ I will tell you. First, however, you must swear, on 
your honor, to make no attempt against the king.” 

“ Never! ” 

“But, if I pledge you my word as a prince to obtain 
the councillor’s pardon myself ? ” 


WHAT MAY HAPTEN UNDER A BED. 


183 


“ If yon pledge your word, monseigneur? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then I say, with you, that is another thing.” 

“Well, on my word as a gentleman, I will do my 
best to save Monsieur Dubourg.” 

“Then, on the word of Kobert Stuart, monseigneur, 
if the king grants you that pardon, the king shall be 
sacred to me.” 

“ Two men of honor need but to pledge their word. 
We have pledged ours, monsieur; let us talk of some- 
thing else.” 

“ I think, monseigneur, it would be better for us not 
to talk at all.” 

“ Did you hear a noise 1 ” 

“ No; but at any moment — ” 

“ Nonsense ! they will leave us time enough for you 
to tell me how you got here.” 

“ That is very simple, monseigneur. I entered the 
Louvre by the aid of this disguise.” 

“ You are not an archer, then ? ” 

“No, I have taken the uniform of one of my 
friends.” 

“ And you are doing that friend a pretty turn.” 

“ I should have told you that the uniform was taken 
without his knowledge.” 

“ And what if you had been killed without having 
had time to make such a statement ? ” 

“ A paper would have been found in my pocket, 
declaring him innocent.” 

“ Come, T see that you are a methodical man ; but 
all that does not tell me how you have been able to 
penetrate this far, nor how you came to poke yourself 
under a bed in this room, where His Majesty does not 
set foot perhaps four times a year.” 


184 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


“ Because His Majesty comes here to-night, mon- 
seigneur. ” 

“ You are certain of that? ” 

“Yes, monseigneur.” 

“ And how did you learn it? Come ! speak.” 

“ A moment ago I was in a corridor, — ” 

“ Which one ? ” 

“ I do not know. I am in the Louvre for the first 
time. ” 

“Well, hut you are not doing badly for the first 
time ! And so you were in a corridor ? ” 

“ Hidden behind the portiere of an unlighted room, 
when I heard whispering two steps away. I listened, 
and overheard this conversation carried on by two 
women : — ” 

“ ‘ It is still for to-night, is it not? ’ 

“‘Yes.’ 

“ ‘ In the Salle des Metamorphoses ? ’ 

“‘Yes.’ 

“ ‘ At one o’clock precisely the king will be there. I 
will leave the key.’” 

“Did you hear that?” cried the prince, with a for- 
midable outburst, again forgetting his surroundings. 

“Yes, monseigneur,” replied the Scotchman; “other- 
wise, what occasion have I to be in this room? ” 

“True,” remarked the prince. 

And he muttered under his breath, — 

“ Ah ! it was the king ! ” 

“What did you say, monseigneur?” inquired the 
archer, thinking himself addressed. 

“ I ask, monsieur, how you managed to find this room, 
as you declared yourself to be unacquainted with the 
Louvre. 

“ Oh ! very easily, monseigneur. I held the portiere 


WHAT MAY HAPPEN UNDER A BED. 


185 


partly open, and watched the person who went to leave 
the key. The key in place, she continued her way, and 
disappeared at the end of the corridor. Then, I was 
about to venture forth in turn, when I heard approach- 
ing steps; I again hid behind my curtain, and a man 
went by me in the dark. When he was past, I watched 
him also, and saw him stop at the door of this room, 
push it open, enter. Then I said to myself, ‘ That man 
is the king! ’ I took only time enough to commend my 
soul to God. I had but to follow the path which the 
man and the woman each in turn had just shown me. 
I not only found the key in the door, but, more than 
that, the door was ajar. I pushed it and entered ; seeing 
no one, I concluded that I had mistaken, that the man 
who appeared to be familiar with the Louvre had gone 
into some neighboring room. I looked for a place of 
concealment. I saw a bed, — you know the rest, mon- 
seigiieur. ” 

“ Yes, morhleu ! I know the rest; but — ” 

“ Silence, monseigneur ! ” 

“ Why 1 ” 

“Because this time they are coming.” 

“ I have your word, monsieur.” 

“And I yours, monseigneur.” 

The hands of the two men met. 

A light step, a woman’s, timidly trod the carpet. 

“Mademoiselle de Saint Andre,” said the prince, in 
an undertone, “ here, at my left.” 

Just then a door opened at the other end of the apart- 
ment, and a youth, a boy almost, entered. 

“The king!” whispered the Scot; “here, at my 
right.” 

Morhleu murmured the prince; “that one, I 
confess, I was very far from suspecting ! ” 


186 


THE HOKOSCOPE. 


XVI. 

THE QUEEN-IMOTHER AND HER POETS. 

The apartment that Catherine de Me'dicis occupied at 
the Louvre had brown hangings, and was bordered with 
wainscotings of sombre-hued oak. The trailing robe of 
mourning which, as a widow of a few months, she was 
wearing at that moment, and which she wore, moreover, 
all the rest of her life, produced, at first sight, a melan- 
choly impression; but a glance above the dais upon 
which she was seated would have sufficed to assure the 
beholder that he was not within a necropolis. 

In fact, above this dais glowed a rainbow bearing a 
Greek device, which the king had bestowed on his 
daughter-in-law, and which might be translated, as we 
think we have already said elsewhere, by these words: 
“ I bring light and peace.” 

Moreover, if the rainbow, like a bridge spanning the 
chasm between the past and the future, between a funeral 
and a fete, had not sufficed to reassure the stranger sud- 
denly ushered into this apartment, he would have needed 
but to lower his eyes and look beneath it upon the dais, 
where, surrounded by seven young women known as the 
Royal Pleiades, was seated in the arm-chair the truly 
beautiful creature called Catherine de Medicis. 

Born in the year 1519, Lorenzo’s daughter was already 
entering upon her fortieth year ; and, although the color 
of her garments suggested death in all its cold rigidity, 
her keen, piercing eyes, beaming with supernatural 
lustre, revealed life in all its vigor, in all its beauty. 







^^^BnT^K'lSy ^ ' 





THE QUEEH-MOTHER AND HER POETS. 187 


Then, too, the ivory whiteness of her brow, the bril- 
liancy of her complexion, the purity, the nobility, the 
severity of the lines of her face, the pride of her look, 
the immobility of her countenance, ever at variance 
with the restless eyes, all made that head seem the 
mask of a Koman empress, and, in profile, with the eye 
fixed, the lips motionless, one might have taken it for 
an antique cameo. 

Yet her brow, habitually gloomy, had just lighted 
up; her lips, usually unmoved, were just parting, and, 
when Madame I’Amirale entered, the latter had, with 
difficulty, repressed an exclamation of surprise upon 
seeing that woman smile who smiled so seldom. 

But she very soon divined under whose breath that 
flower had bloomed. 

Near the queen was Monseigneur le Cardinal de 
Lorraine, Archbishop of E-heims and of Narbonne, 
Bishop of Metz, of Toul and Verdun, of Therouanne, of 
Lugon, of Valence, Abbe of Saint Denis, of Fecamp, of 
Cluny, of Marmoutiers, and the rest. 

The Cardinal de Lorraine, we repeat, who has already 
engaged our attention almost as many times as Queen 
Catherine herself, on account of the important place occu- 
pied by him in the history of the end of the sixteenth 
century; the Cardinal de Lorraine, the man upon whom 
all the ecclesiastical favors known and unknown in France 
were showered at once, — the man, in short, who, when 
sent to Rome in 1548 , had created such a sensation in the 
pontifical city by his youth, his beauty, his grace, his 
stately figure, his magnificent retinue, his affable man- 
ners, his wit, his love of science, to whom all these gifts 
received from nature, finished and refined by education, 
had justified the gift of the Roman purple, with which 
the pope, Paul III. , had honored him a year before. 


188 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


Born in 1525, he was at this time thirty-four years 
of age. He was a cavalier, prodigal and magnificent, 
lavish and luxurious, repeating with his co-sponsor, 
Catherine, when they were accused of squandering the 
finances, — 

“ Let us live to the glory of God; hut let us live.” 

His “gossip,” Catherine, to give her this familiar 
title, was, in fact, his gossip in every sense of the word; 
at that period, she would not have taken a step with- 
out consulting Monsieur le Cardinal de Lorraine. This 
intimacy is explained by the influence which the cardi- 
nal exercised over the mind of the queen-mother, and 
gives one to understand the unlimited sway, the abso- 
lute power of the house of Lorraine over the French 
court. 

Therefore, on seeing the Cardinal de Lorraine lean- 
ing over Catherine’s arm-chair, Madame I’Amirale had 
an explanation of the queen-mother’s smile; doubtless 
the cardinal had just related some story in that spirit of 
raillery which he possessed in the highest degree. 

The other august personages surrounding the queen- 
mother were Francois de Guise and his son, the Prince 
de Joinville, Mademoiselle de Saint Andre’s fiance; 
the Marechal de Saint Andre himself; the Prince de 
Montpensier; his wife, Jacqueline of Hungary, so cele- 
brated for her influence over Catherine de Medicis; and 
the Prince de la Eoche-sur-Yon. 

Behind these stood the Seigneur de Bourdeilles, — 
Brantome, — Eonsard, and Bai'f, “as bad a poet as he 
was good fellow,” says the Cardinal Duperron-Haurat, 
“a fine wit, an ugly poet, and the Pindar of France,” 
say his contemporaries. 

Then Eemi Belleau, somewhat known for his bad 
translation of Anacreon and his poem on the diversity 


THE QUEEN-MOTHER AND HER POETS. 189 


of precious stones, but celebrated for his brilliant lyric 
on the month of April; Pontus de Thiard, mathema- 
tician, philosopher, theologian, and poet, "the man,” 
says Ronsard, “ that introduced the sonnet into France ; ” 
Jodelle, the author of “Cleopatre,” the first French 
tragedy, — God forgive him in heaven as we forgive 
him on earth ! — author of “ Dido,” the second tragedy, of 
“ Eugene,” a comedy, and of a host of sonnets, songs, odes, 
and elegies in vogue at that period, unknown to ours, — 
in short, the Pleiades entire, less Clement Marot, dead 
in 1544, and Joachim du Bellay, called by Marguerite 
of Navarre the French Ovid. 

The occasion of the assembling at the queen-mother’s, 
on that evening, of all these poets, who ordinarily made 
little effort to enjoy one another’s society, was the acci- 
dent that had befallen the little queen, Marie Stuart, 
on the day before. 

That, at least, was the pretext of which each had 
made use; for, to speak the truth, the young wife’s 
beauty, youth, grace and wit, paled before the queen- 
mother’s majesty and might. And so, after a few hack- 
neyed condolences on an event which, however, must 
have terrible consequences, the loss of an heir to the 
crown, the cause of the visit had been forgotten in the 
remembrance of the pardons, benefits, or favors that 
were to be asked for their friends or for themselves. 

They had even spoken of the two threatening letters 
sent, one after the other, to the King of France by way 
of the Marechal de Saint Andre’s windows; but the 
subject, not seeming to be endowed with sufficient 
interest, had fallen flat of itself. 

On the arrival of the admiral’s wife, all those smil- 
ing faces began to frown, and the conversation, lively 
as it had been, became cold and serious. 


190 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


One would have supposed that an enemy had arrived 
in a camp of allies. 

In fact, because of her religious severity, Madame 
PAinirale acted as a cloud upon the seven stars that 
surrounded Catherine. Like the seven daughters of 
Atlas, this brilliant galaxy felt ill at ease in the 
presence of that steadfast virtue which they had so often 
sought to impeach, and which, through the impossibility 
of bringing aught of truth against it, they were reduced 
to slandering. 

Amidst the very significant silence which, however, 
she appeared not to remark, the admiral’s wife advanced 
to kiss Queen Catherine’s hand, and returned to seat 
herself on a tabouret at the right of Monsieur le Prince 
de Joinville, and at the left of Monsieur le Prince de 
la Koche-sur-Yon. 

“ Well, gentlemen of Parnassus,” said Catherine after 
Madame 1’ Ami rale was seated, “ have none of you a new 
chanson to recite, a new triolet, or a good epigram? 
Come, Maestro Eonsard, Monsou Jodelle, Monsou Pemi 
Belleau, it is your duty to entertain us; a fine thing, 
to have birds around you if the birds do not sing ! 
Monsou Pierre de Bourdeilles has just delighted us with 
a fine tale; come, enliven us, some one, with a beautiful 
poem.” 

The queen spoke with the half French, half Italian 
pronunciation that lent such a piquant charm to her 
conversation when it was sprightly, and yet which 
could, like the tongue of Dante, assume such a terrible 
accent when it took a gloomy turn. 

And, as Catherine’s look had rested upon Eonsard, 
he it was who advanced, and, in response to the appeal, 
said, — 

“ Gracinus queen , all that I have done has come to 


THE QUEEN-MOTHER AND HER POETS. 191 


Your Majesty’s knowledge; and as for what may he 
unknown to you, I would not be so hold as to make it 
known.” 

“And why, maestro? ” demanded Catherine. 

“Why, because they are love verses, composed for 
private circles, and because Your Majesty is much too 
imposing for one to dare sing before you the love songs 
of the shepherds of Cnidus and Cythera.” 

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Catherine; “ami not from 
the land of Petrarch and Boccaccio? Proceed, proceed, 
Maitre Pierre, if, however, Madame I’Amirale permits.” 

“ The queen is queen here as elsewhere ; she com- 
mands, and her commands are obeyed I ” responded 
Madame I’Amirale, bending low. 

“You see, maestro,” said Catherine, “ you have full 
license. Come I we are listening.” 

Ponsardtook a step forward , passed his fingers through 
his beautiful flaxen heard, lifted his eyes, full of sweet 
gravity, a moment, toward heaven, as if to invoke 
memory where he sought inspiration, and, ir\ a charm- 
ing voice, he repeated a love-song, which more than one 
of our contemporaneous poets might have envied. 

After him, Kemi Belleau recited, at Queen Cather- 
ine’s request, a villanelle on a young turtle-dove mourn- 
ing her mate. It was a malicious hit, aimed at Madame 
I’Amirale de Coligny, who was accused by malignant 
tongues at court of a tender passion for the Marechal de 
Strozzi, killed the year before, by a musket shot, at the 
siege of Thionville. 

The company clapped their hands, to the great con- 
fusion of Madame I’Amirale, who, whatever self-control 
she might possess, could not prevent the blood from 
mounting to her cheeks. 

When quiet was somewhat restored, Pierre de Bour- 


192 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


deilles, Seigneur de Bran tome, was invited to recite 
one of his gallant anecdotes. It ended amid screams of 
laughter; some were gasping for breath, others were 
writhing and twisting, or clinging to a neighbor, in 
order not to fall. Shouts issued from every mouth, 
tears streamed from every eye, and each drew his hand- 
kerchief, crying, — 

“Oh! enough. Monsieur de Bran tome; for pity’s 
sake! enough! enough!’’ 

Madame I’Amirale, like the rest, had been seized 
with the nervous and irresistible spasm called laughter, 
and had, like the rest, with violent, convulsive move- 
ments, drawn her handkerchief from her pocket. 

Now, it happened that in getting her handkerchief, 
she at the same time drew forth the billet which she 
had brought for Dandelot. 

But, as she carried the handkerchief to her eyes, the 
billet fell to the floor. 

The Prince de Joinville, as we have said, was beside 
Madame I’Amirale. While he was laughing and writh- 
ing, and holding his sides, the young prince saw the 
note fall, — a perfumed, carefully-folded note, an un- 
mistakable billet-doux, issuing from the pocket of the 
admiral’s wife. Monsieur de Joinville had drawn his 
handkerchief, like the rest. He dropped it over the 
note, and gathered them up together, note and hand- 
kerchief. 

Then, having assured himself that the one contained 
the other, he put both into his pocket, reserving the 
reading of the note for a more opportune moment. 

That opportune moment was the one following Madame 
I’Amirale’s departure. 

Like all paroxysms of joy, grief, or laughter, the 
noisy outburst of the royal company was succeeded by a 


THE QUEEN-MOTHER AND HER POETS. 193 


few moments of quiet, during which midnight sounded. 
The striking of the clock and the hour of the night 
reminded the admiral’s wife that it was time for her to 
give the billet to Dandelot, and return to the Hotel de 
Coligny. 

She fumbled in her pocket in search of the note. 

The note was no longer there. 

She fumbled successively through all her pockets, 
in her purse, in her bosom, all in vain. The billet 
had disappeared, either taken or lost, — lost, in all 
likelihood. 

Madame I’Amirale still held her handkerchief in her 
hand. The thought struck her that in taking out her 
handkerchief she had pulled out the billet. 

She looked down, — the note was not there. She 
moved her stool, — no note ! 

The admiral’s wife felt that she was changing color. 

Monsieur de Joinville, who was following all these 
proceedings, could not contain himself any longer. 

“What is the matter, Madame I’Amirale?” he 
inquired. “You seem to have lost something.” 

“ I ? No — unless — nothing — nothing — I have 
lost nothing,” stammered Madame I’Amirale, rising. 

“ Ah ! Mon Dieu ! dear friend,” demanded Catherine, 
“ what has happened then 1 You are changing from 
white to red.” 

“ I am indisposed,” plead the confused wife of the 
admiral, “and, with Your Majesty’s permission, I will 
withdraw.” 

Catherine caught Monsieur de Joinville ’s eye, and 
gathered from his look that it was expedient to excuse 
the admiral’s wife. 

“ Oh ! my dear, ” said she, “ God forbid that I should 
detain you, suffering as you are ! Eeturn home, and 
13 


194 


THE HOKOSCOPE. 


take good care of your health; you are so dear to us 
all.” 

Half suffocated, the admiral’s wife inclined without 
reply, and withdrew. 

With her departed Ronsard, Baif, Daurat, Jodelle, 
Thiard, and Belleau, who accompanied her, still fum- 
bling in her pockets, to her sedan; then, having seen 
the bearers set off toward the Hotel de Coligny, the six 
poets gained the quay, and, discoursing of rhetoric and 
philosophy , returned to the Rue des Fosses-Saint- Victor, 
in which stood Bail’s house, a sort of ancient academy 
where poets gathered on certain days, or rather on cer- 
tain nights, to discuss poetry or other literary or philo- 
sophical matters. 

Let us leave them, for their paths lead away from the 
clue that guides us through the labyrinthine intrigues 
of love and politics which we are pursuing, and let us 
return to Catherine’s apartment. 


MAES AND VENUS. 


195 


XVII. 

MARS AND VENUS. 

Madame l’Amirale had barely taken her departure, 
when everybody , suspecting that something extraordinary 
had just taken place, cried, — 

“ Why , what was the matter with Madame T Amirale ? ” 

“ Ask Monsou de Joinville,” rejoined the queen- 
mother. 

“ What ! you ? ’’ demanded the Cardinal de Lorraine. 

“ Speak ! prince, speak ! ” entreated all the women. 

“Faith, mesdames,” returned the prince, “I do not 
yet know what to tell you. But,” he added, extracting 
the billet from his pocket, “ here is something that will 
speak for me.” 

“ A billet ! ” was exclaimed on all sides. 

“ A billet ! warm, perfumed, satin-like, and fallen 
from whose pocket ? ” 

“ Oh ! prince — ” 

“Guess.” 

“No; tell us quickly.” 

“From the pocket of our straitlaced enemy, Madame 
FAmirale.” 

“ Ah ! ” said Catherine , “ then is that why you gave 
me a signal to let her go ? ” 

“Yes, I confess my indiscretion. I was in haste to 
know the contents of the billet.” 

“ And what is in it ? ” demanded Catherine. 

“ I thought it would be wanting in respect toward 
Your Majesty to read this precious billet first.” 


196 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ Then, give it to me, prince.” 

And, with a respectful bow, Monsieur de Joinville 
handed the paper to the queen-mother. 

They all crowded around Catherine, curiosity getting 
the better of deference. ^ 

“ Mesdames,” said Catherine, “perhaps this letter 
contains a family secret. Let me first read it alone, 
and I promise you that if it may he read aloud, it is a 
pleasure of which I will not deprive you. ” 

They fell away from Catherine; by the act, a cande- 
labrum was unmasked, and the queen was enabled to 
read the note. 

Monsieur de Joinville anxiously watched the changes 
of Catherine’s countenance, and, when she had finished, 
he said, — 

“ Mesdames, the queen is about to read.” 

“Keally, prince, I think you very hasty. I do not 
know whether I ought thus to disclose the love secrets 
of my good friend, Madame I’Amirale.” 

“ Then it is really a love-letter ? ” inquired the Due 
de Guise. 

“ ’Taith! ” said the queen, “ you shall judge for your- 
selves; because, for my part, I cannot think I have read 
aright. ” 

“ And for that reason you will read it again, will you 
not, madame? ” said the impatient Prince de Joinville. 

“ Listen ! ” bade Catherine. 

Perfect silence reigned, in which not a breath was 
heard, although fifteen persons were present. 

The queen read : — 

“ Do not fail, dear love, to repair to-morrow an hour after 
midnight, to the Salles des Metamorphoses. The room in 
which we met last night is too near the apartments of the 
two queens ; our confidante will see that the door is open.” 


MARS AND VENUS. 


197 


There was a universal exclamation of astonishment. 

It was a rendezvous, — a very explicit rendezvous; a 
rendezvous granted by the admiral’s wife, since the note 
had fallen from her pocket. 

Hence Madame I’Amirale’s visit to the queen was 
hut a pretext for visiting the Louvre, and, as Dandelot 
was on duty, the admiral’s wife could undoubtedly count 
on her brother-in-law, and depart when she pleased. 

But who could the man he ? 

They reckoned up all Madame I’Amirale’s friends, 
one after the other; but Madame de Coligny led a life 
so strict that they knew not on whom to fix. 

They went so far as to suspect Dandelot himself, so 
easy was it to be suspicious in that corrupt court. 

“ But,” observed the Due de Guise, “ there is a very 
simple way of discovering the gallant. ” 

“ How 1 ” was demanded on all sides. 

“ The rendezvous is evidently for to-night 1 ” 

“ It is,” answered Catherine. 

“Well, we must serve the lovers as the Olympian 
gods served Mars and Venus.” 

“ And visit them while they sleep! ” cried Monsieur 
de Joinville. 

The court dames looked at each other. 

They were dying to welcome the proposition with 
unanimous applause; but they dared not confess to the 
desire. It was half an hour past midnight. 

There was a half-hour to wait, but, in slandering a 
neighbor, a half-hour is quickly whiled away. 

And they slandered the admiral’s wife ; in anticipation 
they pictured her confusion, and the half-hour passed. 

But no one was more delighted than Catherine at 
this excellent idea of taking her dear friend, Madame 
I’Amirale, in the act. 


198 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


One o’clock sounded. 

All clapped their hands, so impatiently had they 
awaited the hour. 

“Come,” cried the Prince de Joinville; “forward, 
march! ” 

But the Marechal de Saint Andre stopped him. 

“ 0 imprudent youth ! ” said he. 

“ Have you any suggestion to make 1 ” demanded 
Monsieur de la Boche-sur-Yon. 

“ Yes,” answered the marechal. 

“In that case, listen,” rejoined Catherine, “and 
religiously, messieurs. Our friend, the marechal, has 
had wide experience in all things, and particularly in 
affairs of this kind.” 

“ Well,” said the marechal, “ this is what I wish to say 
to curb the impatience of my son-in-law. Monsieur de 
Joinville: it sometimes happens that a rendezvous is not 
held at the precise hour, and that, were we to arrive pre- 
maturely, our plans would run the risk of defeat.” 

The prudent counsel of the Marechal de Saint Andre 
was adopted, and all agreed with Queen Catherine that 
he was past master in matters of such nature. 

It was agreed, therefore, to wait half an hour longer. 

The half-hour rolled away. 

But by that time the impatience had reached such a 
height that, whatever observations the Marechal de Saint 
Andre might have made, they would not have been 
heeded. 

He therefore hazarded none, perhaps because he knew 
it to be quite useless, perhaps because he thought the 
hour for attempting the expedition had indeed arrived. 

Be that as it may, he promised the gay troop to accom- 
pany them as far as the door, and, once there, to await 
the result. 


MARS AND VENUS. 


199 


It was arranged that the queen -mother would retire to 
her bed-chamber, to which the Prince de Joinville 
should repair to give an account of all that might 
happen. 

All formalities being thus regulated, every one took a 
candle in hand. 

The young Due de Montpensier and the Prince de la 
Poche-sur-Yon each carried two, and the cortege, with 
Monsieur de Guise at its head, moved solemnly in the 
direction of the Salle des Metamorphoses. 

Arrived at the door, they came to a stand-still, and 
each applied his ear to the keyhole. 

Not the slightest sound could be heard. 

They remembered that, on this side, they were still 
separated from the Salle des Metamorphoses by an ante- 
chamber. 

Tlie Marechal de Saint Andre gently pushed the door 
of the ante-chamber, but the door resisted. 

“ D table ! ” he exclaimed, “we had not thought of 
this; the door is locked from within.” 

“ Burst it open ! ” suggested the young princess. 

“ Softly, messieurs ! ” said Monsieur de Guise, “ we 
are in the Louvre.” 

“ That may be ! ” retorted the Prince de la Koche-sur- 
Yon; “ but we are of the Louvre.” 

“ Messieurs ! messieurs ! ” insisted the duke, “ we come 
to expose a scandal ; let us not do so by creating another.” 

“ True ! ” said Brantome, “ and the counsel is good. I 
once knew a beautiful and virtuous dame — ” 

“Monsieur de Brantome,” broke in the Prince de 
Joinville, laughing, “ we are making a story at this 
present moment, not relating one. Find some means of 
entering, and there will be another chapter to add to 
your ‘ Lames Galantes.’ ” 


200 


THE HOKOSCOPE. 


“ Ah! well,” returned Monsieur de Brantdme, “ do as 
they do at the king’s apartment, — scratch gently on the 
panel, and perhaps it will be opened.” 

“ Monsieur de Bran tome is right,” said the Prince de 
Joinville. “Scratch, father-in-law, scratch!” 

The Marechal de Saint Andre scratched. 

A valet who was on guard, or asleep, rather, in the 
ante-chamber, and who had heard nothing at all of the 
dialogue we have just reported, the dialogue having been 
conducted in whispers, awoke, and, supposing Lanoue 
had come to reconduct Mademoiselle de Saint Andre, 
as she was in the habit of doing, he set the door ajar and, 
rubbing his eyes, demanded, — 

“ Who is there ? ” 

The Marechal de Saint Andre drew back, and the 
valet found himself face to face with Monsieur de Guise. 

At sight of all those candles, all those lords, all those 
ladies, all those laughing eyes, all those jibing mouths, 
the valet began to think it a trick, and he tried to close 
the door again. 

But the Due de Guise had already set one foot within 
the ante-chamber, true capturer of strongholds that he 
was, and the door, in closing, met the leather of his 
boot. 

The valet continued to push with all his strength. 

“ Stop, knave ! ” said the duke; “ open this door ! ” 

“But, monseigneur,” protested the poor devil, all in 
a tremble as he recognized the duke, “I have strict 
orders — ” 

“ I know your orders ; but I know, too, the secret of 
the matter going on within, and it is in the king’s ser- 
vice, and with his consent, that we would enter here, 
these gentlemen and I.” 

He might have added, “these ladies,” for five or six 


MARS AND VENUS. 


201 


inquisitive dames, laughing under their hooded cloaks, 
were of the troop. 

The valet-de-chambre, who, like every one else, knew 
the power Monsieur de Guise exercised at court, imag- 
ined, in fact, that it was a question of some matter set- 
tled upon between the duke and the king. He first 
opened the door of the ante* chamber, then that of the 
Salle des Metamorphoses, rising on tip-toe to take in 
something of the scene about to be enacted. 

It was not an entrance, it was an irruption. The wave 
dashed into the room like a surging tide, and — , — 


202 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


XVIII. 

IN WHICH MONSIEUR DE JOINVILLE IS FORCED TO 
RELATE HIS MISADVENTURE. 

“ I THINK, monseigneur, ” said Robert Stuart, the first 
to emerge from his retreat, “ that you have no great rea- 
son to eulogize His Majesty, and that if His Majesty 
now fails to grant you Anne Duhourg’s pardon, you will 
no longer have such pressing arguments against my 
project.” 

“ You deceive yourself, monsieur, ” said the Prince de 
Conde emerging from the opposite side and regaining his 
feet ; “ had he far more seriously wronged me, the king 
is ever the king, and I could not avenge a personal injury 
upon the head of the nation.” 

“ What has just happened, however, in no respect 
alters the promise you made me, does it, monseigneur? ” 

“ I promised, monsieur, to ask a pardon for Councillor 
Anne Duhourg at the king’s levee. This morning, at 
eight o’clock, I shall be at the Louvre to seek the 
pardon.” 

“ Frankly, monseigneur, ” said Robert Stuart, “ do you 
believe that it will be granted ? ” 

“ Monsieur, ” replied the Prince de Conde with great 
dignity, “ rest assured that I would not take the trouble 
to ask this favor, if I were not almost sure of obtaining 
it.” 

“ May it be so! ” murmured Robert Stuart with a ges- 
ture indicating that he had not the same confidence ; “ in 
a few hours it will be daylight, and we shall see then — ” 


MONSIEUR DE JOINVILLE’s MISADVENTURE. 203 


“ Xow, monsieur, ” said the prince looking on all sides, 
“ the question is to find a way out of here promptly and 
understandingly. Thanks to your two letters and your 
very unusual manner of delivering them, the doors of the 
Louvre are guarded as if it were in a state of siege, and 
I suspect it would be difficult for you, especially in the 
uniform you are wearing, to get out of here before to- 
morrow morning. I beg you then to observe that, in 
taking you away with me, I am extricating you and your 
friend, the lender of the uniform, from a very bad 
predicament.” 

“ Monseigneur, I never forget either benefit or injury.” 

“ Pray believe that it was not my purpose to claim 
your gratitude, but to prove the fairness of my intentions, 
and in that way to set you an example ; for you are aware 
that I should have only to abandon you here to be quit 
of my oath, without, however, having forfeited my 
word. ” 

“ I know the integrity of Monsieur le Prince de Conde, ” 
replied the young man with some emotion, “ and I think 
he will have no cause to complain of mine. From this 
day I am your servant, body and soul. Obtain my 
father’s pardon and you will have no retainer readier than 
I to die for you.” 

“ I believe you, monsieur, ” returned the Prince de 
Conde, “and, although the occasion of our encounter and 
the manner in which we have met is very unusual, I will 
not conceal from you that in virtue of the motive which 
incited you to the act itself, however blameworthy it may 
be in the eyes of every honest man, I feel toward it a 
degree of indulgence amounting almost to sympathy. 
Only I would like you to explain one thing, — that is, 
how it happens that you bear a Scotch name and that the 
councillor Anne Dubourg is your father.” 


204 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ It is very simple, monseigneur, as are all love stories. 
Twenty-two years ago, the councillor Anne Dubourg was 
twenty-eight years of age ; he went to Scotland to visit 
his friend John Knox. While there he became intimate 
with a daughter of Lothian ; she was my mother. Only 
on his return to Paris did he learn that the young girl 
was with child. He had never doubted her virtue, conse- 
quently he acknowledged as his son and commended to 
John Knox the child she brought into the world.” 

“Very well, monseiur, ” said the Prince de Conde, “ I 
know what I desired to know. Kow, let us busy our- 
selves about getting out of here.” 

The prince advanced first and half opened the door of 
the Salle des Metamorphoses. The corridor had again 
become dark and deserted ; they entered it therefore with 
a certain degree of security. Arrived at the door of the 
Louvre, the prince cast his mantle around the Scotch- 
man’s shoulders and sent for Dandelot. 

Dandelot came. 

In few words, the prince acquainted him with what 
had taken place, but only with regard to the king. Made- 
moiselle de Saint Andre, and the unwelcome visitors who 
had come to rouse them from their slumbers. Of Robert 
Stuart, he said only these three words : — 

“ Monsieur accompanies me ! ” 

Dandelot comprehended the necessity of Conde’s get- 
ting away from the Louvre as fast as possible. He 
caused a private door to be opened, and the prince and 
his companion found themselves outside. 

Both swiftly made their way to the river without the 
exchange of a single word, proving that both duly appre- 
ciated the danger they had just escaped. 

Arrived at the embankment, the Prince de Conde 
asked the Scotchman which way he was going. 


MONSIEUE DE JOINVILLE’s MISADVENTURE. 205 


“ To the right, monseigneur, ” he answered. 

“ And I to the left, ” returned the prince. “ Now, this 
evening, at ten o’clock, let me find you in front of Saint- 
Germain-? Auxerrois. I hope I shall have good news to 
tell you.” 

“ Thanks, monseigneur ! ” said the young man bowing 
respectfully, “ and allow me to repeat that, from this 
hour forth, I am at your service, body and soul.” 

And each went his way. 

Three o’clock was striking. 

At that very moment, the Prince de Joinville was 
being ushered into the bed-chamber of Catherine de 
Medicis. 

Why was the young prince, in spite of himself, and at 
such an hour, entering the queen’s chamber, and by what 
right was the nephew encroaching upon the uncle’s 
privileges ? 

We are about to tell you. 

The poor prince was not there of his own free will, or 
with a light heart. 

Here, in fact, is what had happened. 

It will be remembered that the queen-mother had re- 
mained in her room, announcing that she was about to go 
to bed, where she would expect Monsieur le Prince de 
Joinville, chief promoter of all the scandal, to come and 
tell her what happened. 

We know what happened. 

Now, the Prince de Joinville, quite abashed at his 
discovery, was less disposed than any one to constitute 
himself the historian of a catastrophe in which his con- 
jugal honor, even before he was married, played such a 
sorry role. 

And so without having forgotten his promise, the 
Prince de Joinville was in no hurry to fulfil it. 


206 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


But Catherine did not share the same unconcern with 
regard to the unknown secret. She had been disrobed 
by her women, had retired to her bed, had sent away all 
in attendance save her confidante, and had waited. 

Two o’clock in the morning struck. No time had been 
lost as yet. 

Then a quarter past two, then half past two, then a 
quarter to three. 

Finally, seeing neither uncle nor nephew appear, she 
had whistled for her femme-de-chambre, — the invention 
of bells dates back as far only as Madame de Maintenon, 
— and given orders that they must search for the Prince 
de Joinville and bring him to her, dead or alive. 

The prince was discovered holding high conference 
with the Due Francois de Guise and the Cardinal de 
Lorraine. 

Of course the family council decided that a marriage 
between the Prince de Joinville and Mademoiselle de 
Saint Andre had become utterly impossible. 

In face of the queen-mother’s summons, there was no 
drawing hack. 

The Prince de Joinville had started with bowed head, 
and he arrived with his head bowed lower still. 

As for the Due de Montpensier and the Prince de la 
Koche-sur-Yon, they had slipped away. 

Later, we shall discover with what intent. 

Every moment increased Catherine’s impatience. 
Although the lateness of the hour urged her to sleep, 
she was kept awake by the idea that she was about to 
hear of some escapade to the confusion of her dear friend, 
Madame I’Amirale. 

“ Is it he, at last ? ” she said to herself. 

Then, the moment the young man appeared she cried 
rudely enough, — 


MONSIEUR DE JOINVILLE’s MISADVENTURE. 207 


“ Come along, now, Monsou de Joinville. I have been 
waiting for you an hour ! ” 

The prince approached the bed, stammering some 
excuse, out of which Catherine could make nothing but 
these words: — 

“ May Your Majesty pardon me — ” 

“I will not pardon you, Monsou de Joinville,” said 
the queen-mother with her Florentine accent, “ unless 
your story amuses me as much as your absence has 
annoyed me. Take a stool and sit here at my bedside. 
I see by your face that something extraordinary has 
happened. ” 

“ Yes, ” murmured the prince, “ very extraordinary, in 
fact, something we were very far from expecting,” 

“ So much the better ! so much the better ! ” exclaimed 
the queen-mother, rubbing lier hands; “tell it all and 
omit not a single detail. It is a long time since I have 
had such grounds for laughter. Ah ! Monsou^ there is 
no more laughing at court.” 

“That is true, madame, ” replied Monsieur de Join- 
ville with a funereal air. 

“ Ah well, when the opportunity offers for one to 
divert one^s self a little, ” resumed Catherine, “ one must 
run to meet it, instead of allowing it to escape. There- 
fore, begin your story, Monsou de Joinville. I am 
listening and I promise you not to lose a word of it.” 

And, in fact, Catherine settled herself in her bed like 
a woman making herself thoroughly comfortable before- 
hand, so as to be in no way disturbed in the enjoyment 
of which she is about to partake. 

Then she waited. 

But the recital was difficult for Monsou de Joinville, 
as Catherine called him, to enter upon, so Monsou de 
Joinville sat mute. 


208 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


The queen-mother at first thought the young man 
was collecting his ideas; but, as the silence continued, 
she craned her neck without otherwise deranging her 
body, and cast upon him an indescribable look of 
interrogation. 

“ Well ? ” she demanded. 

“Well, madame,” answered the prince, “I confess 
that my embarrassment is great.” 

“ Your embarrassment ! Why '? ” 

“ Why, in telling Your Majesty what I saw.” 

“ Then what did you see, Monsou de Joinville ? I 
confess that you drive me wild with curiosity. I have 
waited, it is true,” continued Catherine, rubbing her 
beautiful hands together, “ but it seems that I shall 
have lost nothing by waiting. Come, now. Ah! then 
this was really the evening, for you remember, do you 
not, dear Monsou de Joinville, that the billet you picked 
up said ‘ to-morrow, ’ it is true, but it bore no date ? ” 

“ This was the evening, indeed; yes, madame.” 

“ So they were in the Salle des Metamorphoses, were 
they ? ” 

“ They were there.” 

“ Together?” 

“ Together.” 

“Still Mars and Yenus? Ah ga! tell me. I know 
who Venus was, — but Mars? ” 

“ Mars, madame ? ” 

“ Yes, Mars. I do not know who was Mars.” 

“Really, madame, I am at a loss as to whether I 
ought to tell you.” 

“ What, whether you ought to tell me ? I think you 
ought indeed, — if you have any scruples, we will waive 
them. Come now, — Mars I — Young or old ? ” 

“ Young.” 


MONSIEUR DE JOINVILLE’S MISADVENTURE. 209 

“ Of good figure 1 ” 

“ Of good figure, certainly.” 

“ Of rank, doubtless ? ” 

“ Of the highest rank.” 

“ Oh ! oh ! what are you saying, Monsou de Join- 
ville ? ” exclaimed the queen-mother sitting bolt up- 
right. 

“ The truth, madame.” 

“ What, was it not some page, both blind and 
unsophisticated ? ” 

“It was no page.” 

“ And this bold young man, ” demanded Catherine, un- 
able to resist her desire to indulge in sarcasm, “ this bold 
young man holds a position at court ? ” 

“ Yes, Your Majesty, a very high position, even.” 

“ Very high,? Well, for God’s sake, speak out, Mon- 
sou de Joinville! Your words are wrung from you as if 
a state secret were concerned.” 

“ A state secret is concerned, in truth, madame, ” said 
the prince. 

“Ah! then, Monsou de Joinville, I no longer request, 

I command you. Tell me the name of this person. ” 

“ Do you insist ? ” 

“I insist.” 

“ Well, madame,” said the Prince de Joinville, lifting 
his head, “ this person, as you call him, is no other than 
His Majesty, King Pran 9 ois II.” 

“ My son ? ” cried Catherine, bounding up in bed. 

“ Your son, yes, madame.” 

An arquebuse exploding unexpectedly in her room 
could not have produced greater consternation in the 
queen-mother’s face, or more sudden discomfiture. 

She passed her hand across her eyes as if the obscurity 
of the room, lighted by a single lamp, made it difficult for 
14 


210 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


her to distinguish objects; then fixing a piercing gaze 
upon Monsieur de Joinville and leaning forward in such a 
way as almost to touch him, she said in a low voice, but 
with an accent which had changed from playful to 
terrible, — 

“ I am wide awake, am I not, Monsou de J oinville ? 
I heard aright? You certainly told me just now that the 
hero of this adventure was my son ? ” 

“Yes, madame.” 

“ Do you repeat it ? ” 

“ I repeat it. ” 

“ Do you affirm it ? ” 

“ I swear it.” 

And the young man raised his hand. 

“ Very well, Monsoit de Joinville ! ” continued Cath- 
erine, solemnly ; “ now I understand your hesitation, I 
ought even to have understood your silence. Oh! the 
blood surges into my face ? Is it really possible ! my 
son, possessing a young and charming wife and taking a 
mistress who is more than twice his age; my son going 
over to my enemies; my son, — pai' le Christ! it is im- 
possible ! — my son, the lover of Madame T Amirale ! ” 
“Madame,” said the Prince de Joinville, “how the 
note came in Madame I’Amirale’s pocket, I do not know. 
But I do know, unfortunately, that it was not Madame 
I’Amirale who was discovered in the room.” 

“ What ! ” cried Catherine, “ what are you saying 
now, — that it was not Madame I’Amirale ? ” 

“ No, madame, it was not she.” 

“ But if not she, who was it then ? ” 

“Madame—” 

'‘'Monsou de Joinville, the name of this person, her 
name instantly ! ” 

“ Will Your Majesty deign to excuse me — ” 


MONSIEUR DE JOINVILLE’s MISADVENTURE. 211 


“ Excuse you, and why ? ” 

“ Because I am the only one, in truth, from whom no 
one has the right to exact such a revelation.” 

Not even I, Monsou de Joinville ? ” 

“ Not even you, madame. Besides, your curiosity is 
easily satisfied, for the first member of the court that you 
question in my place — ” 

“ But, to question such a person, I must wait until to- 
morrow, Monsou de Joinville. I wish to know the per- 
son’s name now, instantly even. What assurance have 
you that I may not resort to such measures as brook no 
delay?” 

And Catherine’s eyes blazed as they fastened them- 
selves upon the young man. 

“ Madame, ” said he, “ seek throughout the entire court 
for the only person whom T cannot name. Do you name 
her. But — for me, oh ! for me, it is impossible ! ” 

And the young prince raised both hands to his face, in 
part to hide his blush of shame, and in part his angry 
tears. 

A thought flashed like lightning through Catherine’s 
brain. 

She uttered a cry, and, grasping and dashing away the 
young man’s hands in one movement, she exclaimed, — 

“ Ah ! Mademoiselle de Saint Andre ! ” 

The prince did not answer ; hut to give no answer was 
a confession. 

Moreover, he dropped down upon the tabouret placed 
beside the bed. 

Catherine regarded him an instant, her pity being 
mingled with scorn. 

Then, in tones which she forced herself to render most 
caressing, she said, — 

“ Poor child ! I pity you with all my heart ; for it 


212 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


would appear that you love that perfidious girl. Ap- 
proach, give me your hand, and pour out your sorrows 
into the heart of your dear mother, Catherine. I under- 
stand now why you were silent, and I am filled with 
remorse for having so insisted. Forgive me then, my 
son; and now that I know the wrong, let us seek a 
remedy. There are other maidens in our court besides 
Mademoiselle de Saint Andre, and if there are none 
noble enough and beautiful enough for you in our court 
of Paris, we will search for one in the court of Spain or 
of Italy. Therefore, compose yourself, my dear prince, 
and, if possible, let us talk seriously.” 

But Monsieur de Joinville, instead of replying to this 
discourse which evidently had a visible aim and a secret 
one, — to console him and to sound his affection, — 
Monsieur de Joinville fell upon his knees beside the 
queen-mother’s bed, and, sobbing, buried his face in the 
cover. 

“ Pardon, Your Majesty ! ” he cried, pardon, and 
thanks for your tender solicitude; but, at this moment, 
I have strength only to realize my shame and feel my 
sorrow. Therefore, I beg Your Majesty will permit me 
to withdraw.” 

The queen-mother rested a look of profound disdain 
upon this young man bowed down in his grief. 

Then, her voice betraying none of the feeling .por- 
trayed in her face, she said, extending to the young prince 
her beautiful hand which he fervently kissed, — 

“ Go, my child ! and come to-morrow morning and talk 
with me. Until then, good-night, and God keep you! ” 

Monsieur de Joinville instantly took advantage of the 
permission granted him, and left the room. 

Silently Catherine followed him with her eyes until he 
had disappeared behind the curtain ; then her look con- 


MONSIEUR DE JOINVILLE’s MISADVENTURE. 213 

centrated itself upon the tapestry until the motion which 
the prince’s exit had communicated to the fabric had 
ceased. 

Then she rested her elbow on the pillow, and, in hol- 
low tones, her eyes glowing with a baleful light, she 
said, — 

“ From to-night I have a rival, and from to-morrow 
I have lost all power over my son’s mind, — if I do not 
look to it.” 

Then, after a moment of silent meditation, a smile of 
triumph came to her lips. 

“ I will look to it ! ” she said. 


Il4 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


XIX. 

A TID-BIT. 

Now, while Monsieur le Cardinal de Lorraine is being 
put to bed by his valet-de-chambre ; while "Robert Stuart 
is making his way back to his friend Patrick’s; while 
Monsieur de Conde is regaining his hotel, cursing and 
laughing in a breath; while Madame PAmirale keeps 
turning her pockets in search of the unlucky billet that 
has occasioned all this scandal; while the king is cross- 
questioning Lanoue in the effort to learn from her how a 
rumor of his rendezvous could have been noised abroad ; 
while the Marechal de Saint Andre is asking himself 
whether he ought to bless God or curse luck for what 
has happened; while Mademoiselle de Saint Andre is 
dreaming that her neck is encircled with the jewels of 
Madame d’^ltampes and the Duchesse de Valentinois, 
and that Marie Stuart’s crown rests upon her head, let 
us discover what is occupying the young Princes de 
Montpensier and De la Poche-sur-Yon, to whom we 
promised to return. 

The two gay and handsome young men, witnesses of 
what they pronounced a capital spectacle, had been forced 
to contain themselves in presence of the three serious 
faces, — faces more serious than usual just then, — of 
Monsieur de Guise, Monsieur de Saint Andre, and the 
Cardinal de Lorraine. They did more : assuming an air 
of sympathy, they very decorously offered their condo- 
lences to Monsieur le Cardinal de Lorraine, to Monsieur 


A TID-BIT. 


215 


le Marechal de Saint Andrd, and to Monsieur de Guise. 
Then, profiting by the first turn in the corridor that 
would aid them to escape, they remained silent and in 
the shadow until the last one had taken himself off and 
disappeared in whatever direction it suited him to take. 

Once safely alone, the laughter that had been stifled 
in their bosoms with the utmost difficulty found vent in 
such explosions that the windows of the Louvre rattled 
as if a heavy chariot were rolling by. 

Propped against the wall, facing each other, their 
hands on their sides, and their heads thrown back, they 
writhed in such contortions that they might have been 
taken for two epileptics, or, as they said in those days, 
for two persons possessed. 

“Ah! my dear due!” ejaculated the Prince de la 
Poche-sur-Yon, the first to recover breath. 

“ Ah! my dear prince !” gasped the other in return. 

“And to think — to think that there are — are 
people who pretend that we never — never laugh any 
more in this poor Paris ! ” 

“ They are ill — ill-conditioned people.” 

“ Ah ! — mon Dieu ! — how good it feels — and how 
it hurts — to laugh ! ” 

“ Did you see Monsieur de Joinville’s face? ” 

“ And the Marechal de Saint Andre’s? ” 

“ I regret but one thing, due,” said the Prince de la 
Roche-sur-Yon, calming himself a little. 

“ And I regret two, prince,” answered the other. 

“It is, not having been in the king’s place, had all 
Paris been looking on ! ” 

“And I, that all Paris was not looking on, with me 
in the king’s place.” 

“ Oh ! regret nothing, due, — to-morrow, before noon, 
all Paris will know it.” 


216 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ If you are of my mind, prince, all Paris shall know 
it this very night.’’ 

“ And how ? ” 

“ Easily enough.” 

" But how — ” 

“ Parhleu ! by shouting it from the housetops. ” 

“ But Paris is asleep. ” 

“ Paris ought not to sleep when the king wakes.” 

“ You are right ! I can answer for it that His Majesty 
has not yet closed his eyes. ” 

“ Then, let us wake Paris.” 

“ Oh ! the madness of it ! ” 

“ Do you refuse ? ” 

“ By no means ! Since I pronounce it madness, I con- 
sent to it naturally. ” 

“ All right, then.” 

“ Come on ! I am afraid the whole town already 
knows part of the story.” 

And the two young men, rushing headlong down the 
steps, descended the staircase of the Louvre like Hippo- 
menes and Atalanta competing for the prize in the race. 

Having reached the court, they made themselves 
known to Dandelot, to whom they took care to say noth- 
ing, deterred by the role his sister-in-law had played in 
the affair, and a fear that he might oppose their going out. 

Dandelot identified them to the guard as in the case of 
the Prince de Conde, and caused the door to he opened 
for them. 

Arm in arm, laughing in their sleeves, the two young 
people darted out of the Louvre, crossed the drawbridge, 
and found themselves near the river, where an icy wind 
began to cut their faces. Then, on a pretext of warm, 
ing themselves, they gathered up some stones and threw 
them at the windows of the neighboring houses. 


A TID-BIT. 


217 


They had just broken a pane a-piece for two or three 
windows, and were promising themselves more of that 
engaging sport, when twa men enveloped in cloaks, see- 
ing the two youths on the run, barred their way and 
called out to them to stop. 

Both halted. They were- running, but not in flight. 

“ And what right have you to stop us 1 ” cried the 
Due de Montpensier, advancing upon one of the two 
men. “ Go your own road and allow two gentlemen of 
rank to amuse themselves in their own fashion.” 

“ Ah ! pardon ! monseigneur ; I had not recognized 
you, ” said the one whom the Due de Montpensier had 
addressed. “ I am Monsieur de Chavigny, commander 
of the hundred archers of the guard, and I was returning 
to the Louvre in company with Monsieur de Carvoysin, 
first equerry -to His Majesty.” 

“ Good evening. Monsieur de Chavigny ! ” responded 
the Prince de la Eoche-sur-Yon, walking up to the com- 
mander of the hundred archers and extending his hand, 
while the Due de Montpensier responded courteously to 
the bow of the first equerry. Did you say that you are 
returning to the Louvre, Monsieur de Chavigny ? ” 

“Yes, prince.” 

“ Well, we are coming from there, ourselves.” 

“At this hour ? ” 

“ Pray observe , Monsieur de Chavigny , that if the 
hour is suitable for entering, it ought to be equally so 
for leaving.” 

“ Be assured, prince, where you are concerned, I am 
not so indiscreet as to question. ” 

“ And you are wrong , my dear monsieur ; for we have 
very interesting news to tell you.” 

“ Apropos of the king’s service ? ” inquired Monsieur 
de Carvoysin. 


218 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“Precisely, the king’s service. You have hit it, 
Monsieur le Grand Ecuyer,” cried the Prince de la 
Koche-sur-Yon, bursting into a laugh. 

“ Indeed ? ” inquired Monsieur de Chavigny. 

“ Upon honor.” 

“ What is it about, messieurs 1 ” 

“ The great honor with which His Majesty has just 
overwhelmed one of his most illustrious captains,” re- 
turned the Prince de la Eoche-sur-Yon. 

“ And my brother, De Joinville,” said the Due de 
Montpensier, “ schoolboy as he is. ” 

“ Of what honor do you speak, prince ? ” 

“ Who is the illustrious captain, due? ” 

“Messieurs, it is the Marechal de Saint Andre.” 

“ And what honors can His Majesty yet add to those 
he has already heaped upon Monsieur de Saint Andre : 
Marechal of France, first gentleman of the Chamber, the 
grand-cordon of Saint Michel, Chevalier de la Jarre- 
tiere ? Some people are very fortunate ! ” 

“ That depends ! ” 

“ What ! That depends — ? ” 

“ Doubtless; it is a bit of fortune that would not suit 
you, perhaps. Monsieur de Chavigny, who possess a 
pretty young wife, nor you. Monsieur de Carvoysin, 
who have a pretty young daughter.” 

“ In truth ? ” cried Monsieur de Chavigny , who was 
beginning to comprehend. 

“ You have it, my dear fellow,” said the Prince de la 
Eoche-sur-Yon. 

“ But are you quite certain of what you say 1 ” de- 
manded Monsieur de Chavigny. 

“Farbleu!” 

“ This is a very serious matter, prince ! ” replied Mon- 
sieur de Carvoysin. 


A TID-BIT. 219 

"Do you think so? As for me, on the contrary, I 
find it excruciatingly funny.” 

“ But who told you ? ” 

“ Who told us? No one. We saw it! ” 

" Where ? ” 

“ I saw it, as also did Monsieur de la Eoche-sur-Yon, 
Monsieur de Saint Andre, my brother, De Joinville, 
who, by way of parenthesis, ought to have seen even 
more than the rest, for he held a candelabrum — with 
how many branches, prince ? 

“ With five branches ! ” declared the Prince de la 
Eoche-sur-Yon, beginning to laugh louder than ever. 

" The alliance of His Majesty with the marechal is 
therefore no longer to be doubted,” seriously began the 
Due de Montpensier, “ and, from now on, let the heretics 
look out for themselves. We are about to publish the 
news to the true Catholics of Paris. ” 

“ Is it possible ? ” cried Monsieur de Chavigny and 
Monsieur de Carvoysin simultaneously. 

“ It is exactly as I have the honor to inform you, mes- 
sieurs,” replied the prince. “Our news is quite fresh, 
not yet an hour old; so that in sharing it with you, we 
think we are giving you a real proof of friendship, — on 
condition , be it understood , that you cause it to circu- 
late and communicate it to all whom you happen to 
meet. ” 

“And as, at this hour, one runs across few friends, 
unless by some good chance like the one that has brought 
us together, we invite you to do as we are doing, cause 
closed doors to be opened, make your friends get up if 
they have gone to bed, and confiding the secret to them, 
as the barber of King Midas did to the reeds, tell them, 
— ‘ King Franqois II. is the lover of Mademoiselle de 
Saint Andre. ’ ” 


220 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“Ah! by my faith! messieurs,” said the grand 
equerry, “ I shall do as you say. I cannot endure the 
Marechal de Saint Andre, and I know of a friend of 
mine near by to whom the news will give such pleasure 
that I should not hesitate, on leaving you, to go and 
wake him up if he were sound asleep. ” 

“ And you, my dear Monsieur de Chavigny,” said . the 
Prince de la Poche-sur-Yon, “ knowing that you cherish 
no affection for Monsieur de Joinville, I am sure you 
will follow Monsieur de Carvoysin’s example.” 

“ ’Faith, yes ! ” cried Monsieur de Chavigny ; “ instead 
of going to the Louvre, I shall return home and tell the 
affair to my wife. To-morrow morning, before nine 
o’clock, four of her friends will know it, and that I 
promise you is the same as if you were to send four 
trumpeters to the four cardinal points of the compass. ” 
Upon this, the gentlemen saluted each other, the two 
young people followed the bank of the river toward the 
Pue de la Monnaie, while Messieurs de Chavigny and 
Carvoysin, instead of continuing their course to the 
Louvre, each conscientiously did his part to publish the 
news of the day, or, rather, of the night. 

Having reached the Pue de la Monnaie, the Prince de 
la Poche-sur-Yon observed a lighted window over a 
sign that hung creaking in the wind. 

“Hold,” said the due, “a wonder! there is a bour- 
geois’ window alight at half-past three in the morning. 
It is either a bourgeois just married, or a poet making 
verses. ” 

“ There is some truth in what you say, my dear fellow, 
and I had forgotten that I was invited to the wedding. 
Faith, I should like to show you Master Balthazar’s 
bride. You would find that, although the girl is not 
the daughter of a French marechal , she is none the less 


A TID-BIT. 221 

a beautiful girl; but, for want of the bride, I am going 
to show you the husband.” 

“ Ah ! dear prince, it would not be charitable to bring 
the poor man to the window at such a time. ” 

“ Good ! ” said the prince ; “ he is the only man who 
has nothing to fear on that score. ” 

“ And why ? ” 

“ Because he always has a cold. I have known him 
for ten years; I have never yet been able to get from 
him a clear and distinct ‘ good day, prince.’ ” 

“ Let us see the man, then.” 

“ And all the more, since besides being an inn-keeper, 
he is a bath-keeper, with houses on the Seine, and to- 
morrow morning, while rubbing down his patrons, he 
will repeat the story that we tell him.” 

“ Bravo ! ”. 

Our two young people, like two schoolboys following 
the side of the river and filling their pockets with 
pebbles to skip on the water, had filled their own with 
small stones, which they meant to use as catapults 
against the houses to which they hoped to lay siege. 

The prince took a pebble from his pocket, and, fall- 
ing back two steps to gain an impetus, just as we have 
seen Bobert Stuart do, but with a more sinister purpose, 
he shot the stone through a pane of the lighted window. 

The window was opened so promptly that one might 
have thought the pebble had produced that effect. 

A man in a nightcap appeared, candle in hand, and 
essayed to shout, — 

“ Pvobbers ! ” 

“ What is he saying ? ” demanded the duke. 

“ You see for yourself that one must be accustomed to 
him in order, to understand him. He is calling us 
robbers. ” 


222 


THE HOKOSCOPE. 


Then, turning toward the window, the prince shouted, 

“ DonT get excited, Balthazar; it is I.” 

« You — Your Highness ? — May Your Highness ex- 
cuse me! — Your Highness certainly has a right to 
break my windows.” 

“ Ah I hon Dieu! ” cried the duke, laughing with all 
his might, “ what language does your good man speak, 
prince ? ” 

“ People who know call it a jargon of Iroquois and 
Hottentot. Nevertheless, in his sort of growl, he has 
just made a very obliging remark.” 

“ What is it? ” 

“ That we have a right to break his windows.” 

“ Ah ! pardieu / that deserves thanks. ” 

Then, addressing Balthazar, he said, — 

“Priend, news reached the court that you were mar- 
ried this evening, and that your wife is pretty. Now, 
we have come from the Louvre expressly to congratulate 
you.” 

“And to tell you, my dear Balthazar, that the 
weather is cold and now is the proper time for the good 
things of earth.” 

“While, on the other hand, His Majesty’s heart is 
warm, — which will profit the Marechal de Saint 
Andre.” 

“ I do not understand.” 

“ Never mind ! repeat what we have said, my dear 
Balthazar. Others will understand, and know all it 
implies. Our compliments to madame.” 

And the two young men went up the Hue de la 
Monnaie, shouting with laughter as they heard the 
grumbling and wheezing of the host of The Black 
Cow, who could very easily shut his window again 
but could not mend his window-pane. 


TIRE-LAINE AND TIKE-SOIE. 


223 


XX 

TIRE-LAINE AND TIRE-SOIE. 

Laughing still, the two young men continued up the 
Eue de la Monnaie and came to the Eue de Bethisy. 

On turning the corner, they seemed to hear, in the 
direction of the Hotel de Coligny, a great clashing of 
swords and a formidable outcry of voices. 

The scene which gave rise to the clashing of swords 
and the sound of voices was in the shadow twenty or 
thirty paces distant from them. 

They stepped back out of sight under the porch of a 
house at the corner of the Eue de la Monnaie and the 
Eue de Bethisy. 

“Aha!” said a firm voice in tones full of menace, 
“ you are thieves it seems.” 

“ Farhleu / ” responded an impudent one , “ you will 
do well if you meet honest men in the street at this 
hour of the night ! ” 

“ Eohhers ! ” exclaimed a voice less assured than the 
first. 

“ Where is the thief that is not something of a rob- 
ber, and where is the robber that is not something of a 
thief?” responded the second voice, which seemed to 
be that of a philosopher. 

“ Would you assassinate us, then ? ” 

“ By no means, your lordship I ” 

“ Then, what do you want? ” 

“ To relieve you of your purse, that is all.” 


224 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“I swear,” returned the first voice, “there is not 
much of anything in my purse, but, such as it is, you 
shall not look into it.” 

“ You are wrong to be so obstinate, monsieur ! ” 

“ Monsieur, v’e give you notice that you are two 
against eleven; moreover, your companion seems to be 
only your lackey. All resistance would be folly.” 

“ Stand aside ! ” cried the voice, becoming more and 
more threatening. 

“You appear to be a stranger in this good city of 
Paris, monsieur,” said the voice that appeared to belong 
to the leader of the band, “ and perhaps it is not that 
you are so niggardly, but that you fear to be without 
lodging if left without money; but we are civilized 
thieves, monsieur, tire-soie, not tire-laine, and we 
know what is due in such a case. Deliver up your 
purse gracefully, monsieur, and we will give you back 
a crown, that you may not be left without money for 
your lodging, unless you would prefer the address of a 
respectable hotel where, with suitable references, you 
would be quickly admitted. A man like you cannot 
lack friends in Paris, and to-morrow, or rather to-day, 
— for I would not mislead you, it is almost four in the 
morning, — to-day, you can call on your friends, who 
will assuredly relieve your embarrassment.” 

“ Stand aside ! ” repeated the same voice. “ You can 
take my life, since you are eleven against two; but, as 
for my purse, you shall not have it.” 

“Your remark is illogical, monsieur,” returned the 
one who seemed authorized to speak for the band; “ for, 
if once w’e have your life, we are at liberty to take your 
purse. ” 

“ Back, scoundrels ! and look out for yourselves, — we 
have between us two good swords and two good dirks.” 


TIEE-LAINE AND TIRE-SOIE. 


225 


‘‘And, what is more, good law. But what does good 
law amount to when evil is the stronger ? ” 

“ Meanwhile,” retorted the gentleman, who appeared 
to be the less tolerant of the two, “ parry that.” 

And he made a frightful lunge at the chief of the 
band, who, fortunately for himself, being accustomed 
no doubt to this kind of sally, was on his guard, and 
sprang hack so promptly and so cleverly that only his 
doublet was pierced. 

Then began the clashing of swords and the cries heard 
by the Prince de la Koche-sur-Yon and the Due de 
Montpensier. 

While striking out, one of the men attacked shouted 
for help. But, as if the other must have understood 
that it was useless to call for help, or else that he scorned 
to make an outcry, he thrust in silence, and, from one 
or two blasphemies uttered by his adversaries, it could 
be divined that he did not thrust the air. 

When we said the silent gentleman must have con- 
sidered it useless to call for help, we hoped the reader 
would grasp our meaning. 

It was of no use to seek aid from men whose business 
it was to dispense it in such an instance, that is, from 
the agents of Monsieur de Mouchy, grand inquisiteur 
of the law of France. These agents, called mouchis, 
or mouchards, went the rounds of the city day and 
night for the purpose of arresting, it is true, all of whom 
they were suspicious. 

But Messieurs les moiichis or mouchards^ whichever 
one prefers to call them, did not appear to suspect the 
hordes of evil-doers infesting Paris, and more than once 
even, when the occasion had seemed opportune, and the 
spoil promised to be rich. Monsieur de Mouchy ’s agents 
had assisted the suspicious characters, whether they 
15 


226 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


belonged to the class of tire-soie^ or gentleman thieves, 
who never molested any but people of quality, or to the 
class of tire-laine, poor devils, thieves of the lowest 
degree, who were content to strip the bourgeois. 

Outside of the two great categories which we have 
just mentioned, there was besides, a gang of mauvais 
gargons^ a band of ruffians organized and divided into 
sections, who hired out as assassins to any that would 
honor them, we will say, with their confidence. And, 
let us add in passing, during that era of the fulness of 
love and hate, the number of those desiring to be rid 
of another being great, there was no lack of work. 

None of these were regarded as suspicious characters 
by Monsieur de Mouchy’s agents. It was knowi\ that 
in general they were employed by rich and noble lords, 
even by princes, indeed, and good care was taken not 
to disturb them in the performance of their duties. 

Still there remained the guilleris, plumets, and 
who corresponded to our cutpurses, pickpockets, 
and panders. But these fellows were such low rascals 
that, had Monsieur de Mouchy’s agents considered them 
suspicious characters. Monsieur de Mouchy’s agents 
would not have deigned to be seen in their company. 

It was, therefore, very rare for gentlemen to venture 
into the streets of Paris at night otherwise than well 
armed and accompanied by a certain number of attend- 
ants. Hence it was very imprudent for our young men 
to be out at such an hour, unattended, and nothing less 
than a matter of such importance as the one that had 
brought them out could induce us to overlook such rash- 
ness on their part. 

This explains how the chief of the tire-soie recog- 
nized, on attacking the man with the threatening voice, 
that the latter must be a gentleman from the provinces. 


TIRE-LA INE AND TIRE-SOIE. 


227 


After what we have said of the customs of Monsieur 
de Mouchy’s agents, no astonishment will he felt that 
none of them appeared at the valet’s cries. But his 
shouts had evidently been heard by a young man who 
was leaving the Hotel de Coligny. Comprehending the 
difficulty, he had wrapped his mantle around his left 
arm, had drawn his sword in his right hand, and rushed 
forward shouting, — 

“ Stand fast, monsieur! If you want help, here it is! ” 

“I did not call for help,” angrily replied the gentle- 
man , as he wielded his long sword ; “ it was this squall- 
ing La Briche, who thinks he is justified in disturbing 
a gentleman and waking up the quarter on account of 
five or six miserable assassins.” 

" We are not assassins, monsieur,” replied the leader 
of the band , as you can see from the courtesy with 
which you are treated. We are tire-soie, as we have 
already told you, freebooters of good family, all having 
lands of our own; and we rob only gentlemen. Instead 
of calling to your aid a third person , who will add fuel 
to the fire, you would do much better to yield with a 
good grace and not force us to resort to violence, which 
we dislike beyond expression.” 

“Not a pistole!” returned the gentleman assailed.' 

“Ah! thieves! — ah! dogs! — ah! wretches!” shouted 
the gentleman from the admiral’s, as he flung himself 
into the midst of the fray. 

One of the tire-soie gave a groan which testified that 
the new-comer had joined word and deed. 

“ Come ! ” said the leader of the band , “ since you are 
obstinate , I see indeed that we must fight it out. ” 

And, in the shadow, the shapeless group became more 
animated, shrieks issued from the throats of the wounded, 
fast and faster flew the sparks from dirk and dagger. 


228 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


La Briche, while striking out his best, continued to 
shout for help. It was his system, and he could 
maintain that it was a good one, since it had already 
succeeded. 

His screams could have but one result, — a theatre 
once provided. 

“ We cannot let those three men be slaughtered in 
cold blood,” exclaimed the Prince de la Boche-sur-Yon, 
drawing his sword. 

“ True, prince,” said the Due de Montpensier, “ and, 
really, I am ashamed to have delayed so long.” 

And the two young men, responding to the call of La 
Briche, as the gentleman emerging from the Hotel 
Coligny had done just a moment before, rushed upon 
the field of action, crying in turn, — 

“Stand fast, messieurs! here we come! to the death! 
to the death ! ” 

The tire-soie, compelled to face the three men, having 
already lost two of theirs, and seeing this new reenforce- 
ment preparing to charge their rear, resolved to make 
a last stand, although they were now but nine to five. 

The leader, with five of his men, confronted the three 
they had first assailed, while four of the bandits faced 
about to receive Messieurs de Montpensier and de la 
Eoche-sur-Yon. 

“ To the death, then, gentlemen, since you will have 
it so! ” cried the chief. 

“ To the death ! ” repeated the band. 

“With all my heart! have at them, comrades! To 
the death ! ” cried the gentleman from the Hdtel 
Coligny. “ By all means ! — to the death ! There — ! ” 

And, with a lunge as great as his slight stature per- 
mitted, he passed his sword through the body of one of 
the assailants. 


TIEE-LAINE AND TIRE-SOIE. 229 

The wounded man gave a groan, took three steps 
backward, and fell stone dead on the pavement. 

“ A pretty stroke, monsieur ! ” exclaimed the gentle- 
man first assaulted. “ But I think I can match it for 
you. There ! ” 

And, with a lunge in turn, he buried his sword to 
its basket-hilt in a bandit’s body. 

At almost the same moment, the Due de Montpen- 
sier’s poniard disappeared to the guard in the throat of 
one of his adversaries. 

The bandits were now hut six to five, as much as to 
say that they were becoming the weaker party, when 
suddenly the door of the Hotel Coligny opened wide, 
and the admiral, followed by two torch-hearers and four 
armed lackeys, appeared under the lighted archway, 
sword in hand, and wearing a dressing-gown. 

“ Ho, there, clowns ! ” he called out, “ what are you 
about? Clear the street, and quickly, too, or I will 
nail every man of you like crows to the great door of 
my hotel.” 

Then, turning to his lackeys, he said, — 

" Come, my lads, upon the rascals ! ” 

And setting the example, he started for the field of 
battle. 

This time, there was no chance to make a stand. 

“Every man for himself! ” cried the chief, parrying, 
but a little too late, a sword thrust which had yet force 
enough to pierce his arm. “ Every man for himself ! 
it is the Prince de Conde ! ” 

And darting swiftly to the left, he took to his heels. 

Unfortunately, five of his comrades were unable to 
profit by this charitable warning. Four were stretched 
on the ground, and the fifth was forced to lean against 
the wall to save himself from falling. 


230 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


This last stroke was the work of the Prince de la 
Roche-sur-Yon, so that each had done his duty. 

As for the gentlemen, they had received hut scratches 
or slight wounds. 

The gentleman first assailed, learning to his great 
astonishment that the one who had first come to his 
rescue was no other than the Prince de Conde, turned 
and bowed with deference, saying, — 

“ Monseigneur, I have double reason to thank Provi- 
dence: first, for my safety; and in the second place, for 
having sent as the instrument of my salvation, — with 
no reflection upon these noble lords, — the bravest gen- 
tleman in France.” 

“By my faith! monsieur,” said the prince, “I am 
happy that chance brought me at this hour of the night 
to my cousin, the admiral’s, and at the same time 
placed me in the way of being of service to you. Now, 
as you have thanked me in such pleasant terms for the 
little I have done, I should esteeem it a favor if you 
would tell me your name.” 

“ My name, monseigneur, is Godefroi de Barri.” 

“ Ah ! ” interposed Conde, “ Baron de Perigord, Sei- 
gneur de la Renaudie ? ” 

“And a good friend of mine,” said the admiral, ex- 
tending one hand to La Renaudie and the other to the 
Prince de Conde. “Now, if 1 mistake not,” continued 
the admiral, “ it is a long time since the king’s pave- 
ment has seen such a gallant gathering, — Monsieur le 
Due de Montpensier and Monsieur le Prince de la 
Roche-sur-Yon.” 

“In person, Monsieur I’Amiral! ” said the Prince de 
la Roche-sur-Yon, while La Renaudie turned toward him 
and his companion, saluting them both; “and, if it 
can please these poor devils to know that those who 


TIEE-LAINE AND TIRE-SOIE. 


231 


have given them their passes to hell are not exactly 
peasants, they can rest in peace, well satisfied!” 

“Messieurs,” said the admiral, “the door of the 
Hotel de Coligny is open. That is to say, if you will 
do me the honor to enter and have some refreshment, 
you shall he welcome.” 

“Thanks, dear cousin,” said Monsieur de Oonde. 
“ But you know that I left you ten minutes ago with 
the intention of returning home. I did not suspect 
that I should have the pleasure of meeting at your door 
a gentleman whose acquaintance you had promised me.” 

And he courteously saluted La Eenaudie. 

“ A brave gentleman whom I have seen at work, 
cousin, and who, I give you my word, acquits himself 
marvellously well,” continued the prince. “Have you 
been long in Paris, Monsieur de Barri ? ” 

“I have just arrived, monseigneur,” replied La 
Kenaudie in accents of profound melancholy, and cast- 
ing a final glance at the wretch whom his last sword- 
thrust had stretched dead on the pavement; “ and I did 
not expect,” he added, “ to be the cause of a man’s 
death, and to owe my own life to a great prince before a 
half-hour had rolled away after I had passed the gates. ” 

“Monsieur le Baron,” said the Prince de Conde, 
holding out his hand to the young man with his accus- 
tomed graciousness and urbanity, “ pray believe that T 
shall he greatly pleased to see you again. The friends 
of Monsieur I’Amiral are the friends of the Prince de 
Conde.” 

“Well said, my dear prince!” remarked Coligny, 
with an inflection that signified, — “ That is no idle 
speech you are making, and we shall recur to it later.” 

Then, turning to the young men, he asked, — 

And you, messieurs, will you not do me the honor 


232 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


to enter? Before I became your father’s enemy, Mon- 
sieur de Montpensier, or, rather, before he became mine, 
we were hearty comrades. I hope,’’ he added with a 
sigh, “that it is the times that are changed, and not 
our liearts ! ” 

“Thanks, Monsieur I’Amiral,” returned the Due de 
Montpensier, answering for himself and the Prince de 
la Eoche-sur-Yon, as Coligny’s words had been addressed 
to him especially, “ we should be most happy to accept 
your hospitality, were it only for a moment; but the 
Hotel de Condd is at some distance from here, bridges 
must be crossed, bad quarters traversed, and we are 
about to ask the prince the favor of escorting him.” 

“Go, messieurs, and may God keep you! For that 
matter, I should not advise all the tire-soie and the tire- 
laine of Paris banded together to attack three men so 
valiant as you. ” 

This entire conversation had taken place on the very 
scene of the fight, the victors standing with their feet in 
blood, and none of them, excepting La Eenaudie, a 
man seemingly of another epoch, glanced at the five 
wretches, of whom three were already corpses, but two 
of whom were still in the throes of death. 

The Prince de Conde, the Prince de la Eoche-sur-Yon, 
and the Due de Montpensier saluted the admiral and La 
Eenaudie, and turned in the direction of the Pont-aux- 
Moulins, an edict forbidding the ferry-men to ply their 
boats after nine o’clock at night. 

Left alone with La Eenaudie, the admiral extended 
his hand. 

“ You were on your way to my house, were you not, 
my friend ? ” said he. 

“Yes; I come from Geneva, and have most important 
news to give you.” 


TIRE-LAINE AND TIRE-SOIE. 


233 


“ Come in ! My house is yours at any hour, day or 
night. ” 

And he pointed to the door of the h6tel, open and 
waiting for the guest who must have come in the Lord’s 
care, since the Lord had so miraculously saved him. 

Meanwhile, the two young men who, it is readily 
seen, had not accompanied the prince merely for the sake 
of providing him an escort, but rather for the purpose 
of relating the adventure of the king and Mademoiselle 
de Saint Andre, narrated, without omitting a detail, 
the occurrence which he himself, with details quite as 
exact in other respects, had just related to the admiral. 

The news had been quite fresh for Monsieur de 
Coligny. Madame I’Amirale had returned and shut 
herself in her room without saying a word, not only of 
tliis occurrence, which she could not have foreseen, but 
also of the loss of the billet, chief cause of all this 
tumult; so that, however well-informed Monsieur de 
Conde might be as to all the rest, he was still ignorant 
— so true it is that there is always something for us to 
learn — as to how and on what information all the court , 
headed by Monsieur de Saint Andre and Monsieur de 
Joinville, had burst into the Salle des Metamorphoses. 

That was a secret which could be divulged by the two 
young princes. 

They told him then, speaking by turn like the shep- 
herds of Virgil, how the admiral’s wife had laughed 
until she cried; how, crying still more than she 
laughed, she had drawn her handkerchief from her 
pocket to wipe her eyes; how, in drawing her handker- 
chief from her pocket, she had at the same time drawn 
with it a billet which had fallen on the floor; how 
Monsieur de Joinville had picked up the billet; how, 
after Madame I’Amirale’s departure, the young prince 


234 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


had exhibited the note to the queen-mother; how the 
queen-mother, thinking that the said billet concerned 
her good friend, the admiral’s wife, had suggested the 
surprise; how the surprise-party, decided upon by a 
unanimous vote, had set out; and how, in the end, the 
surprise had reacted on those who had intended to 
surprise. 

The end of the story brought them to the door of the 
Hotel de Conde. The prince in turn gave the young 
men the invitation extended by the admiral to all, but 
they declined it; however, they confessed to the prince 
the true cause of their refusal. They had lost some 
precious time in that unexpected affair of Monsieur de 
la Renaudie’s, and they had still many friends to whom 
they wished to communicate the story which they had 
just told Monsieur de Conde. 

“ What pleases me most in this affair,” said the Prince 
de la Eoche-sur-Yon, shaking hands a last time with 
Monsieur de Conde, “is the face that Mademoiselle de 
Saint Andre’s adorer must draw upon learning this 
news.” 

“ What ! her adorer ? ” said the Prince de Conde, re- 
taining Monsieur de la Eoche-sur-Yon’s hand which he 
was on the point of releasing. 

“What! don’t you know about that?” inquired the 
young man. 

“I know nothing, messieurs,” replied the prince 
laughing. “ Speak ! speak 1 ” 

“ Ah ! bravo ! ” cried the Due de Montpensier ; “ for 
that is the prettiest part of the story.” 

“ Were you not aware,” continued the Prince de la 
Eoche-sur-Yon, “ that besides a fiance and a lover. 
Mademoiselle de Saint Andre has still another devotee ? ’’ 

“ And who is this devotee ? ” demanded the prince. 


TIRE-LAINE AND TIRE-SOIE. 235 

“ Ah! in faith, you ask too much, this time; I do 
not know his name.” 

“ Is he young ? is he old ? ” asked the prince. 

“ We cannot see his face.” 

“ Eeally 1 ” 

“No. He is always enveloped in a great mantle 
which conceals all the lower portion 'of his face.” 

“ He is some Spaniard from the court of King Philip 
II.,” added the Due de Montpensier. 

“And where does this wooer appear, or rather this 
shadow 1 ” 

“If you were less seldom at the Louvre, my dear 
prince, you would not have put such a question.” 

“ Why ? ” 

“ Because for the last six months, now, he has walked 
after nightfall under his lady-love’s windows.” 

“ Nonsense ! ” 

“ It is truth.” 

“ And you do not know the man’s name ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ You have never seen his face h ” 

“ Never.” 

“ You have not recognized his figure ? ” 

“ He is always Avrapped in an immense cloak.” 

“ And you have no suspicions as to who he is, prince ? ” 
“ None.” 

“Not the slightest suspicion, due? ” 

“Not the slightest.” 

“ Yet some conjecture has certainly been made ! ” 
“One among others,” said the Prince de la Poche- 
sur-Yon. 

“What is it?” 

“ It has been said that it was you,” continued the Due 
de Montpensier. 


236 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ I have so many enemies at the Louvre ! ” 

“ But there is nothing in it, of course 1 ” 

“ Pardon, messieurs, it was I ! ” 

And, with a how and a cavalier wave of the hand to 
the two young men, the prince entered his hotel, and 
shut the door behind him, leaving Monsieur de Mont- 
pensier and Monsieur de la Boche-sur-Yon standing 
there, stupefied with amazement in the middle of the 
street. 


LIKE MOTHER, LIKE SON. 


237 


XXI. 

LIKE MOTHER, LIKE SON. 

The queen -mother had not closed her eyes during 
the whole night. 

Thus far, her son, a puny, sickly child, scarcely 
matured, married to a coquettish young queen, inter- 
ested in nothing but love, hunting, and poetry, had left 
to her — to her and the Guises — the entire manage- 
ment of affairs, what kings call the burden of state, and 
yet are so jealous of maintaining. 

To Catherine, reared in the midst of the intrigues of 
Italian politics, — paltry, petty politics, fit fora small 
duchy like Tuscany, but unworthy of a great kingdom 
such as France was beginning to be, — power was life. 

Now, what did she see dawning on the horizon opposed 
to her own ? 

A rival — not in her son’s love; for her son’s love 
she could have been consoled. Who does not love has 
no right to exact love ; she loved neither Francois II. 
nor Charles IX. 

She was dismayed, therefore, this farseeing Floren- 
tine, at discovering in her son a sentiment which was 
unknoAvn to her, which was not inspired by herself, 
which had been developed without her, and which had 
suddenly burst upon the court, surprising them, surpris- 
ing her at the same time, and, consequently, still more 
than it surprised others. 

And she was especially terrified, knowing the one to 
whom her son had turned; for out of the young girl’s 


238 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


sixteen years, she had seen in lightning flashes the 
ambition of the woman. 

When day dawned, she sent her son a message saying 
that she was suffering, and that she begged him to come 
to her room. 

In her own room, Catherine, like a clever actor in his 
own theatre, was free to select her position and command 
the stage. She established herself in the shadow, where 
she remained but dimly visible ; she placed those who 
approached her in the light where she could see all. 
This is why, instead of going to seek her son, she pre- 
tended to he ailing and summoned him to visit her. 

The messenger returned saying that the king was still 
asleep. 

Catherine impatiently waited an hour, and sent 
again. 

The same answer. 

She waited with increasing impatience for another 
hour. The king was still asleep. 

“ Oh ! oh ! ” murmured Catherine, “ the sons of France 
are not in the habit of sleeping so late. This slumber 
is too pertinacious to be natural.” 

And she left her bed, where she had waited in the 
hope of being able to play out the scene that she had 
meditated, half-hidden by the curtains, and gave the 
Order for herself to be dressed. 

The theatre was changed. Everything that would 
have been of service to Catherine in her own apartment 
w'as wanting in her son’s. But she considered herself 
a sufficiently clever comedian for this change of scene 
to have no effect on the result. 

Her toilet was hurried, and when it had been achieved , 
she directed herself in all haste to the apartment of 
FraiiQois II. 


LIKE MOTHER, LIKE SON. 


239 


Without ceremony she entered the king’s room as any 
mother enters her son’s. None of the valets or officers 
stationed in the ante-chambers dreamed of stopping 
her. 

She therefore proceeded through the first hall leading 
to the king’s apartment, and raising the portiere of the 
bed-chamber, she saw him, not lying down, not asleep 
in his bed, hut sitting before a table, facing the embra- 
sure of a window. 

With his elbow resting on the table, and his hack 
turned to the door, he was regarding some object so 
attentively that he did not hear the portiere rise in front 
of his mother and fall behind her. Catherine stood 
still at the door. Her eye, which had at first sought 
the bed, became fixed upon Francois IT. 

Her glance^ flashed with a light in which there was 
certainly more of hate than of love. 

Then she slowly advanced, and with no more noise 
than if it had been her shadow instead of herself, she 
leaned on the hack of the arm-chair, and looked over 
her son’s shoulder. 

The king had not heard her approach. He was sitting 
in an ecstasy before a portrait of Mademoiselle de Saint 
Andre. 

The expression of Catherine’s face hardened and, with 
a quick muscular contraction, turned into the most 
accentuated hatred. 

Then, by a powerful self-control, the muscles of her 
face relaxed, the smile returned to her lips, and she 
bent her head until it almost touched the king’s. 

Francois shivered with terror as he felt a warm breath 
fan his hair. 

He turned sharply and recognized his mother. 

By a movement as quick as thought, he overturned 


240 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


the portrait on the table with the face down and placed 
his hand upon it. 

Then, instead of rising and embracing his mother, as 
was his wont, he rolled his chair and moved away from 
Catherine. 

Then he nodded to her coldly. 

“Well, my son,” demanded the Florentine, without 
appearing to notice the frigidity of his greeting, “ what 
has happened ? ” 

“ Do you ask me what has happened ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Why, nothing at all that I am aware of, mother ! ” 

“I beg your pardon, my son. Something extraor- 
dinary must have happened.” 

“ And why 1 ” 

“ Because it is not your custom to remain in bed until 
this hour. It is true, I may have been deceived, or 
the messenger has misunderstood.” 

Frangois remained silent, regarding his mother almost 
as steadily as she regarded him. 

“Four times have I sent to you this morning,” con- 
tinued Catherine. “ I was told that you were asleep.” 

She paused; but the king continued to maintain 
silence, looking at her as if to say, “Well, what 
then ? ” 

“So that,” Catherine continued, “being alarmed at 
such persistent sleeping, I feared you were ill and came 
to see you.” 

“ I thank you, madame,” vouchsafed the young prince, 
inclining his head. 

“ You should never alarm me thus, Frangois,” in- 
sisted the Florentine. “ You know how much I love 
you, how precious your health is to me ! Do not, there- 
fore, trifle longer with the anxiety of your mother. 


LIKE MOTHER, LIKE SON. 


241 


Enough annoyances assail me from others, without my 
children’s adding still more to them by their indiffer- 
ence toward me.” 

The young man appeared to have formed a resolution. 
A wan smile played on his lips, and, extending his right 
hand to his mother, while the left still rested on the 
portrait, he said, — 

“Thanks, dear mother; with all the exaggeration 
there is some truth in what has been told you. I have 
been ailing; I have spent a restless night, and I arose 
two hours later than usual.” 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed Catherine, very dolefully. 

“But,” continued Francois II., “I am quite myself 
now, and ready to work with you, if such is your good 
pleasure.” 

“And why, my dear child,” said Catherine, retaining 
Francois’ hand in one of her own, holding it against her 
heart, and passing her other through his hair, “ why 
have you spent such a restless night ? Do I not take on 
myself all weighty affairs, leaving you only the pleas- 
ures of royalty ? How does it happen that any one has 
permitted himself to impose upon you fatigue which 
should have been mine 1 For I presume that they were 
affairs of state that troubled you, were they not ? ” 

“ Yes, madame,” answered Francois II. with such pre- 
cipitation that Catherine would have guessed the lie, 
had she not known beforehand the true cause of that 
night’s restlessness. 

But she guarded well against expressing the least 
doubt, and, on the contrary, feigned to have implicit 
confidence in her son’s words. 

“ Some important question is to be decided, is there 
not? ” continued Catherine, visibly determined to force 
her son to the wall; “ a question of engaging an enemy, 

16 


242 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


of repairing an injuvstice, of lessening a heavy tax, of 
confirming a death-sentence ? ” 

At these words, Francois remembered indeed that he 
had been asked the day before to fix the execution of 
Councillor Dubourg for that same evening. 

He eagerly seized upon the cue that was given him. 

“It is just that, mother,” he answered. “It is the 
question of passing a sentence of death upon one man by 
another, although that other is a king. A death- 
sentence is always such a solemn matter, — and that is 
the real cause of the trouble in which I have been since 
yesterday. ” 

“ You fear to sign the death-warrant of an innocent 
man, do you not? ” 

“ Of Monsieur Dubourg, yes, mother.” 

“ That comes from a good French heart, and you are 
the worthy son of your mother. But, in this case, for- 
tunately, there is no mistake to he made. Councillor 
Dubourg has been found guilty of heresy by three differ- 
ent jurisdictions, and the signature for which you are 
asked, that the execution may take place this evening, 
is a simple formality.” 

“ That is what seems so terrible, mother,” said Fran- 
cois, — “that a simple formality should suffice to take 
a man’s life.” 

“ What a heart of gold you have , my son ! ” exclaimed 
Catherine, “ and how proud I am of you ! However, be 
reassured. The safety of the State is to be considered 
before the life of a man, and in this instance, you need 
hesitate the less, since the councillor must die, first 
because it is right, next because it is necessary.” 

“ You are not unaware, my dear mother,” said the 
young man after a moment’s hesitation, and turning 
pale, “ that I have received two threatening letters.” 


LIKE MOTHER, LIKE SON. 


243 


“ Liar and coward ! ” muttered Catherine between her 
teeth. Then aloud and with a smile she said, — 

“My son, it is just because you have received these 
two threatening letters with regard to Monsieur Dubourg, 
that Monsieur Dubourg must be condemned ; otherwise, 
it would be thought you had yielded to threats and that 
your clemency arose from fear.” 

“ Ah ! ” said Frangois, “ do you think so 1 ” 

“Yes, I think so, my son,” replied Catherine; 
“while, on the contrary, if you proclaim these two 
letters by sound of trumpet and, immediately after 
them, the arrest, it will reflect great glory on you and 
great shame on Monsieur Dubourg. All who now are 
neither for nor against him will be against him.” 

Francois appeared to be reflecting. 

“From the nature of these two letters,” continued 
Catherine, “ I should not even be surprised if a friend 
had written them instead of an enemy.” 

“ A friend, madame ? ” 

“Yes,” insisted Catherine, “a friend, careful at once 
of the welfare of the king and of the glory of the 
kingdom.” 

The young man lowered his dull gaze under his 
mother’s keen one. 

Then, raising his head after a moment’s silence, he 
said , — 

“ You had those two letters written to me, did you 
not, madame ? ” 

“Oh!” said Catherine, in a tone that belied her 
words, “ I do not say that, my son.” 

Catherine had a double motive for allowing her son 
to think the two letters had emanated from her : first, 
to make him blush for his cowardice, next, to remove 
the fear with which the two letters had inspired him. 


•244 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


The youth, whom those letters had cruelly tormented, 
and who preserved a doubt in the depths of his mind, 
cast at his mother a quick glance of anger and hate. 

Catherine smiled. 

“If he could strangle me,” she said to herself, “he 
would certainly do it at this moment. But, fortunately, 
he cannot do it.” 

Thus, Catherine’s affectation of maternal tenderness, 
her protestations of devotion, her cat-like wheedling 
had in no respect been able to touch the heart of Francois. 
The queen-mother likewise saw that her fears were about 
to be realized, and that, unless she remedied the matter 
with all possible haste, she was on the point of losing 
her influence over him. She completely and instantly 
changed her plan of attack. 

She heaved a sigh, shook her head, and assumed a look 
of the deepest dejection. 

“Ah! my son,” cried she, “I must needs be con- 
vinced of what I have hesitated to believe, but which I 
am no longer permitted to doubt.” 

“ What, madame ? ” demanded Francois. 

“My son, my son,” said Catherine, essaying to call 
a tear to her aid , “ you no longer have confidence in 
your mother.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” returned the young man with 
an air of gloomy impatience. “ I do not understand. ” 

“ I mean, FranQois, that you are suddenly forgetting 
the fifteen years of mortal anxiety, fifteen years of 
watching at your pillow ; I mean that you are forgetting 
the terrors that I underwent during your infancy, the 
constant care with which my solicitude has surrounded 
you from the cradle.” 

“ I understand you still less, madame, but I have 
been schooled to patience; I am waiting and listening.” 


LIKE MOTHEE, LIKE SON. 245 

And the young man’s nervous hand gave the lie to 
his boast of patience, by clutching at the portrait of 
Mademoiselle de Saint Andre with an almost convulsive 
movement. 

“Well,” replied Catherine, “you shall understand 
me. I say that, thanks to the care I have taken of you, 
Frangois, I know you as well as you know yourself. 
Now this night has been full of trouble for you, I 
know ; but not because you have considered the welfare 
of the State, not because you have hesitated between 
severity and clemency, hut because your secret amours 
with Mademoiselle de Saint Andre are revealed. ” 

“ Mother ! ” cried the young man into whose coun- 
tenance surged all the shame and anger he had endured 
on the preceding night. 

Ordinarily pale, with an unwholesome, deadly pallor, 
Francois became as red as if a wave of blood had passed 
over his face. 

He rose, but stood with his hand clutching the back 
of his chair. 

“ Ah ! do you know that, mother ? ” 

“ What a child you are, Frangois ! ” said Catherine, 
with that good nature which she knew so well how to 
affect. “ Do not mothers know everything ? ” 

Francois stood silent, his teeth set, his cheeks quiver- 
ing. Catherine continued in her softest tones, — 

“Tell me, my son, why you have refused to confide 
this love to me? Doubtless, I should have reproved 
you; doubtless, I should have reminded you of your 
duties as a husband; doubtless, I should have endeav- 
ored to turn your eyes to the grace, the beauty, the 
intelligence of the young queen.” 

Frangois shook his head with a gloomy smile. 

“ It would have availed nothing ? ” resumed Cath- 


246 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


erine. “Well, discovering the disease to be incurable, 
I should not have tried to cure it; I should have 
counselled you. Is a mother not her child’s visible 
Providence, and, seeing you so devoted to Mademoi- 
selle de Saint Andre, — for you love Mademoiselle de 
Saint Andre very much, as it seems? ” 

“ Very much, yes, madame! ” 

“ Well then, I should have shut my eyes. It would 
have been easier for me to shut them as a mother than 
to shut them as a wife. Did I not, for fifteen years, 
see Madame de Valentinois share your father’s heart 
with me, at times even take it from me altogether? 
Now, do you think that what a woman has done for her 
husband, a mother cannot do for her son? Are you 
not my pride, my joy, my happiness? How does it 
happen, then, that you have loved in secret without 
telling me ? ” 

“Mother,” replied Fran9ois, with a self-possession 
that would have done credit to her own powers of dissim- 
ulation in the eyes of Catherine herself, if she could 
have known what was to follow, “ mother, you are 
really so kind to me that I blush for having deceived 
you so long. Well, yes, I confess, I love Mademoiselle 
de Saint Andre !” 

“ Ah ! ” exclaimed Catherine, “ you see, indeed — ” 

“ Observe, mother,” added the young man, “ it is the 
first time that you have spoken of the matter ; and if you 
had spoken of it sooner, — having no reason for conceal- 
ment from you, since this affection is not only firmly 
rooted in my heart, but, what is more, in my will, — if 
you had spoken of it sooner, I should have avowed it 
sooner. ” 

“In your will, rran9ois ! ” cried the astonished 
Catherine. 


LIKE MOTHEE, LIKE SON. 


247 


“ Yes. You are surprised, are you not, mother, that 
I have a will? But there is one thing at which I, too, 
am surprised,” continued the young man, regarding her 
steadily; " it is that you have this morning just played 
this farce of the tender mother, when it was you who, 
last night, gave up my secret to the ridicule of the 
court, when you are the sole cause of what has 
happened. ” 

“ Francois 1 ” cried the queen-mother, more and more 
amazed. 

" No,” pursued the young man, “no, madame, T was 
not asleep this morning when you sent for me. I was 
gathering information from all sources on the prime 
cause of this scandal, and all the information I have 
collected has resulted in convincing me that you are 
the one who laid the snare in which I was caught.” 

“ My son ! my son ! be careful as to what you say ! ” 
replied Catherine with set teeth, and casting upon her 
son a look as glittering and as piercing as the blade of 
a poniard. 

“ First, madame , let us understand one thing : 
there is no longer any question of mother and son be- 
tween us.” 

A gesture escaped Catherine in which were blended 
threat and terror. 

“There is a king who, thank God, is of age; there 
is a queen regent who has nothing more to do, if it is 
this king’s pleasure, with affairs of state. The king 
reigns at fourteen in France, madame, and I am sixteen. 
Well, I am weary of the role of infant which you con- 
tinue to thrust upon me when I am past the age for it. 
I am tired of the sensation of leading-strings around me, 
as if I were still in swaddling clothes. In short, and 
to sum all, madame, henceforth, if you please, we will 


248 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


each assume our real position. I am your king, 
madame, and you are only my subject.” 

A thunderbolt falling into the room could not have 
produced a more terrible effect than this fulminating 
apostrophe bursting in the midst of Catherine’s projects. 
Thus, then, what she had supposed she was saying in 
hypocritical jest was true. For sixteen years she had 
reared, cared for, led, instructed, directed this rickety 
child; like the keepers of the tawny brutes in our days, 
she had impoverished, exhausted, enervated this lion’s 
cub, and behold, suddenly the young lion awoke, 
growled, showed his teeth, turned upon her his glowing 
eyes, and rushed at her the whole length of his chain. 
Who could answer whether he would not devour her 
if the chain were to break ? 

She recoiled in terror. 

For a woman like Catherine de Medicis, there was 
something to shudder at in what she had just seen, in 
what she had just heard. 

And what terrified her most, perhaps, was not the cli- 
max of the end, but the dissimulation of the beginning. 

In her judgment, to know how to dissimulate was 
everything; the strength of the crafty policy brought by 
her from Florence was dissimulation. And it was a 
woman, a young girl, a child almost, who had produced 
this change, regenerated this sickly creature, endowed 
this sorry mortal with the hardihood to speak these 
strange words: “Henceforth,! am your king, and you 
are only my subject.” 

“ Against the woman who has wrought this strange 
metamorphosis,” thought Catherine, “ the woman who 
has made of this child a man, of this slave a king, of 
this dwarf a giant, against that woman I must enter the 
lists.” 


I 


LIKE MOTHER, LIKE SON. 249 

Then, under her breath, as if regaining her faculties, 
the queen-mother murmured, — 

“ Vrai Dieu ! I was worn out with having to deal 
with only a phantom. And so,” she added aloud to 
Francois, quite prepared to support the attack, however 
unexpected it might have been, “ and so it is I whom 
you accuse of being the author of last night’s scan- 
dal ? ” 

“ Yes,” dryly returned the king. 

“ You accuse your mother without certainty of her 
guilt. That is a good son ! ” 

" Will you say, madame, that the affair did not 
emanate from your apartment ? ” 

“ I do not say that it might not have emanated from 
my apartment; I say that it did not emanate from 
me.” 

“ Then who betrayed the secret of my rendezvous 
with Mademoiselle de Saint Andre 1 ” 

"A note.” 

" A note ? ” 

“ A note that fell from the pocket of Madame 
FAmirale.” 

“ A note fallen from the pocket of Madame 1’ Amirale ? 
You are jesting! ” 

“ God forbid my jesting on what gives you pain, my 
son! ” 

“ But by whom was this note signed ? ” 

“ It bore no signature. ” 

“ By whom was it written ? ” 

“The writing was unknown to me.” 

“ But, in short, what became of this note ? ” 

“There it is! ” said the queen -mother, who had pre- 
served it. And she handed the note to the king. 
“Lanoue’s writing! ” cried the king. 


250 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


Then, after a second, he said with growing amaze- 
roent, — 

“ My own note. ” 

“ Yes; but admit that you alone would recognize it.” 

“ And do you say this note fell from Madame 
TAmirale’s pocket? ” 

“It so surely fell from Madame I’Amirale’s pocket, 
that everyone supposed it to implicate her, that it was 
she whom they were preparing to surprise; otherwise,” 
added Catherine, shrugging her shoulders and smiling 
disdainfully, “ otherwise, do you suppose that the two 
persons whom you must have seen on opening your 
eyes would have been the Marechal de Saint Andre and 
Monsieur de Joinville? ” 

“ And the secret of all this intrigue directed against 
myself and the woman I love ? ” 

“ Madame TAmirale alone can give it to you.” 

Fran9ois raised a small gold whistle to his lips and 
blew a shrill note. 

An officer lifted the portiere. 

“Let some one go to the admiral’s hotel, Kue de 
Bethisy, and inform Madame I’Amirale that the king 
desires to speak with her immediately.” 

On turning back, Francois encountered his mother’s 
fixed and gloomy stare riveted upon his face. 

He felt himself blush. 

“ I ask your pardon, mother,” said he, ashamed 
enough that his accusation had proved to be false, “ I 
ask your pardon for having suspected you.” 

“You have done more than suspect me, Francois; 
you have gravely and harshly accused me. But I am 
not your mother for nothing, and I am prepared to bear 
with many more accusations.” 

“ Mother! ” 


LIKE MOTHER, LIKE SON. 


251 


‘‘Allow me to continue,” said Catherine, frowning; 
for, seeing her adversary give way, she understood that 
then was the time to press him. 

“ I am listening, mother,” said Francois. 

“ You have made a mistake in this, then, in the first 
instance, and, in the second, you made a still graver 
mistake when you called me your subject. I am no 
more your subject — do you hear? — than you are or 
ever will be my king. I repeat that you are my son, 
nothing more, nothing less.” 

The young man ground his teeth and paled almost to 
lividness. 

“It is you, mother,” warned he, with an energy 
which Catherine had not suspected in him, “ it is you 
who strangely mistake: I am your son, it is true; but it 
is because I am your eldest son that I am at the same 
time the king, and I will prove it, mother! ” 

“ You? ” exclaimed Catherine, looking at him like a 
viper ready to strike ; “ you — king ? and you will 
prove it, say you? ” 

She burst into a harsh, disdainful laugh. 

“ You will prove it — and how ? Do you think your- 
self a match in the political arena for Elizabeth of 
England and Philip II. of Spain? You will prove it! 
How ? By establishing peace between the Guises and 
the Bourbons, between the Huguenots and the Catho- 
lics? You will prove it! Will you do it by placing 
yourself at the head of the armies, like your grandfather, 
Francois I. , or your father, Henri II. ? Poor child ! 
you — king? Why, are you not aware, then, that I 
hold your destiny and your very existence between my 
hands? I have but to say a word, and the crown slips 
from your head. I have but to give the signal, and the 
soul takes flight from your body. Look and listen, if 


252 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


you have eyes and ears, and you will see, monsieur, 
my son, how the people treat their king. You — king ? 
Wretch that you are! The strongest is king — and 
look at you and look at me! ” 

As she uttered these last words, Catherine was terrible 
to behold. 

Threateningly she advanced, like a spectre, on the 
young king, who recoiled three steps and leaned for 
support against the back of his arm-chair, as if ready 
to faint. 

“ Ah! ” said the Florentine, “you see indeed that I 
am still the queen, and that you, you are only a weak 
and slender reed, which the slightest breath bends to 
the earth ; and you think to rule ! Why, look around 
you at the powerful ones in France who would be kings, 
were I not here to drive them back every time that they 
have endeavored to set foot on even the lowest step of 
your throne. Look at Monsieur de Guise, for example, 
that winner of battles, that taker of towns: why, his 
arms reach a hundred times as far as yours, monsieur, 
my son; and your head, even with irts crown, is not 
worth his heel.” 

“ Well, mother, I will bite Monsieur de Guise’s heel. 
Death seized Achilles by the heel, as I have been taught, 
and I will reign in spite of him and in spite of you.” 

“ Yes, quite so; and, when you have bitten Monsieur 
de Guise’s heel, when your Achilles is dead, not from 
the bite, but from poison, who will fight the Huguenots 1 
Do not deceive yourself; you are neither so hand- 
some as Paris, nor so brave as Hector. Are you aware 
that, after Monsieur de Guise, you have only one great 
captain in France? For T trust indeed that you do 
not count as such your idiot of a Constable de Mont- 
morency, who has been beaten in every battle where he 


LIKE MOTHER, LIKE SON. 


253 


has commanded, nor your courtier, the Marechal de 
Saint Andre, whose conquests have been made in ante- 
chambers only? No! you have but one great captain, 
and that is Monsieur de Coligny. Well, that great cap- 
tain, with his brother Dandelot, almost as great as he, 
will to-morrow, if he is not to-day, be at the head of the 
most formidable faction that ever threatened a state. 
Look at them and look at you; compare yourself with 
them, and you will see that they are oaks powerfully 
rooted in the earth, and that you are but a miserable 
reed bending under the breath of every faction.” 

“ But, after all , what do you desire, what do you exact 
from me ? Am I, then, but an instrument in your 
hands, and must I resign myself to being the bauble of 
your ambition ? ” 

Catherine repressed the smile of joy ready to play on 
her lips and betray her. She was beginning to recover 
her power. With the tip of her finger she touched the 
string of the puppet which for an instant had made a 
feint of acting independently, and she was again about 
to move it to her liking. But she by no means desired 
to let her triumph be seen, and, enchanted with this 
beginning of his defeat, she resolved to complete her 
victory. 

“ What I desire, what I exact of you, my son,” re- 
turned she in her hypocritical voice, more to be feared 
perhaps than when it was cajoling or threatening, “ is 
no more than this: that you allow me to establish your 
power, to insure your happiness; nothing more, nothing 
less. What signifies the rest to me ? Am I thinking 
of myself, in speaking as I do and acting as I speak? 
Is not my every effort put forth to make you happy? 
Eh! mon Dieu! do you think, then, that the burden of 
a government is so pleasant and so light a mattter that 


254 


THE HOEOSCOPE. 


I find pleasure in carrying it? You talk of my ambi- 
tion! Yes, I have one, — to fight until I have over- 
thrown your enemies, or at least until they are worn 
out one after the other. No, Fran9ois,” said she, with 
apparent self-abnegation, “ on the day when I see you 
the man I desire you to be, the king that I hope for, I 
will joyfully, believe me indeed, place the crown on 
your head and the sceptre in your hand. But were I 
to do it to-day, I should be giving you a reed instead of 
a sceptre, a crown of thorns instead of a crown of gold. 
Grow, my son, strengthen, mature under your mother’s 
eyes as a tree under the sun’s rays, and then, then, tall, 
strong, and mature, be a king! ” 

“ But what must be done, mother, to accomplish 
that? ” cried Francois, in tones that were almost 
despairing. 

“ I will tell you, my son. You must, first of all, 
renounce the woman who is the chief cause of this 
scandal.” 

“ Kenounce Mademoiselle de Saint Andre! ” cried 
Francois, expecting anything but this condition; “re- 
nounce Mademoiselle de Saint Andre! ” he repeated, 
with concentrated rage. “ Ah ! then that is what you 
are aiming at ? ” 

“Yes, my son,” said Catherine, coldly, “renounce 
Mademoiselle de Saint Andre. ” 

“Never, mother! ” returned Fran9ois with a resolute 
air, and with the energy of which he had already given 
proof two or three times since the beginning of the 
conversation. 

“ Pardon me, Fran9ois,” said the Florentine with the 
same gentle but resolute tone ; “ she must be given up. 
It is the price I place on our reconciliation ; if not — 
there can be none! ” 


LIKE MOTHER, LIKE SON. 255 

“ But do you not know, then, how desperately I love 
her, mother ? ” 

Catherine smiled at the naivete of her son. 

“ Then wherein would he the merit of renouncing her, 
if you did not love her? ” said she. 

“ But, mon Dieu ! why should I renounce her ? ” 

“ In the interests of the State. ” 

“What has Mademoiselle de Saint Andre to do with 
the interest of the State? ” demanded Francois II. 

“ Do you wish me to tell you ? ” asked Catherine. 

But the king, interrupting her as if having beforehand 
no doubt of her logic, said, — 

“ Listen, mother. I know the supreme genius with 
which God has gifted you; I know the weakness and 
inertness that he has placed in me; in short, I recog- 
nize your authority, present and future, and I trust 
blindly to you in the decision of public matters and in 
all concerning the interests of the kingdom which you 
govern so wisely. But, in return, mother, in return for 
yielding up to you all these rights, which would be so 
precious to another, I beg you to allow me free control 
of my private affairs.” 

“ In every other instance, yes ! and I thought even that 
you had nothing with which to reproach me on this sub- 
ject. But to-day, no ! ” 

“ But why not to-day ? Why this severity with regard 
to the only woman I have ever truly loved ? ” 

“Because this woman, more than any other, my son, 
can create civil strife in your dominions, because she is 
the daughter of the Marechal de Saint Andre, one of 
your most devoted servants.” 

“I will send Monsieur de Saint Andrd to govern 
some great province, and Monsieur de Saint Andre will 
shut his eyes. Besides, Monsieur de Saint Andre is 


256 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


entirely devoted just now to his love for his young wife, 
and his young wife will be very glad to be rid of a step- 
daughter, her rival in wit and beauty.’’ 

“ It is possible that it may be so in the case of Mon- 
sieur de Saint Andre, whose jealousy has become prover- 
bial, and who keeps his wife shut up quite as if he were 
a Spaniard of the days of the Cid. But will Monsieur 
de Joinville, — Monsieur de Joinville, who passion- 
ately loves Mademoiselle de Saint Andre, and who was 
to have married her, — will he, too, shut his eyes? 
And if he consents to close them out of reverence for 
the king, will he shut them before his uncle, the Car- 
dinal de Lorraine, and his father, the Due de Guise? 
Keully, Frangois, permit me to tell you that you are a 
poor diplomat, and that, if your mother were not watch- 
ful, in less than eight days the foremost despoiler of 
royalty would snatch your crown from your head, as 
the first tire~laine he meets strips the cloak from the 
bourgeois’ shoulders. A last time, my son, I insist 
that you renounce this woman, and at this price, do 
you hear, I repeat that we shall be fully reconciled, 
and I will arrange the matter with the Messieurs 
de Guise. Do you understand me, and will you obey 
me?” 

“Yes, mother, I understand you,” said Frangois II. ; 
“ but I will not obey you. ” 

“ You will not obey me ! ” cried Catherine, coming 
into collision for the first time with an obstinacy which, 
like the giant Antaeus, arose with renewed strength 
when supposed to be vanquished. 

“No,” continued Frangois II., “no, I will not, and 
I cannot, obey you. I love, I tell you; I am in the 
first hours of a first love, and nothing can prevail on me 
to renounce it. I know that I have entered on a thorny 


LIKE MOTHER, LIKE SON. 257 

path ; perhaps it leads to a fatal end; but, I tell you, I 
love, and I will not look beyond that word.” 

“ You are firmly resolved, my son ? ” 

In those two words, “ my son,” usually so sweet from 
a mother’s lips, there was an indescribably threatening 
accent. 

“Firmly resolved, madame,” answered Francois II. 

“ Do you accept the consequences of your foolish 
obstinacy, M^hatever they may be? ” 

“ Whatever they may be, I accept them; yes! ” 

“ Then, adieu, monsieur ! I know what remains for 
me to do.” 

“ Adieu, madame I ” 

Catherine took a few steps toward the door and 
stopped. 

“You will take the blame on yourself?” said she, 
attempting a last menace. 

“ I will take the blame on myself. ” 

“ Eemember that I am in no way responsible for this 
foolish resolution of yours to strive against your real 
interests ; that, whether misfortune comes upon you or 
me, all the responsibility will fall on you alone — ” 

“ So be it, mother. I accept the responsibility.” 

“ Then, adieu, Francois! ” said the Florentine with a 
laugh and a terrible glance. 

“ Adieu, mother! ” answered the young man, with a 
laugh no less evil, with a look no less threatening. 

And mother and son parted, each filled with profound 
hatred for the other. 


17 


258 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


XXII. 

IN WHICH MONSIEUR DE CONDE PREACHES REVOLT TO 
THE KING. 

We must bear in mind the promise made by the Prince 
de Conde to Robert Stuart on the preceding evening, 
and the rendezvous that he had appointed with the 
young man for the following night on the Place Saint- 
Germain-1 ’Auxerrois. 

The Prince de Conde entered the Louvre just as the 
queen was leaving her son’s apartment. 

He came to fulfil his promise of asking the king to 
pardon Anne Dubourg. 

He was announced to the king. 

“Let him enter!” returned the king in a feeble 
voice. 

The prince entered and saw the young monarch lying 
rather than sitting in his arm-chair, and wiping with 
his handkerchief the perspiration that covered his 
forehead. 

His eyes were set, his mouth was open, his face livid. 

He might have been taken for a statue of Fear. 

“Ah! ah!” murmured the prince, “the child is in 
trouble. ” 

Let it not be forgotten that the prince had been 
present to the end of the interview between the king 
and Mademoiselle de Saint Andr^, and had heard the 
promises made by the former to his mistress. 

At sight of the prince the king’s face suddenly 
brightened. The sun in person entering the gloomy 


MONSIEUR DE COND^ PREACHES REVOLT. 259 

chamber could not more suddenly have illumined it. 
One would have said that the young king had just made 
a great discovery. An inspiration lighted up his face 
with hope. He rose and went to meet the prince. 
One would have thought him about to cast himself on 
the other’s bosom in an embrace. 

It was the attraction of strength for weakness, as 
powerful as that of the magnet for iron. 

The prince, who seemed but moderately desirous of 
an embrace, bowed at the first step he saw the king 
make to advance toward him. 

Restraining his first impulse, Frangois paused and 
extended a hand to the prince. 

The latter, being unable to dispense with kissing the 
hand extended to him, bravely performed his part. 

Only, in pressing it to his lips, he asked himself, — 

“ How the devil can I be of use to him, that he gives 
me such a welcome to-day 1 ” 

“ Oh ! how glad I am to see you, cousin ! ” said the 
king tenderly. 

“ And I, sire , am at once glad and honored. ” 

“ You could not have come more opportunely, 
prince.” 

“ Am I so fortunate ? ” 

“ Yes; I have been horribly vexed.” 

“Indeed,” said the prince, “just as I entered. Your 
Majesty was looking profoundly annoyed.” 

“Profoundly, that is the word. Yes, my dear 
prince, I am frightfully plagued.” 

“Royally, in short,” said the prince, with a smile 
and a bow. 

“ And the sadness of it is, cousin,” continued Francois 
II. , with an air of profound melancholy, “ that I have 
no friend to whom I can confide my troubles.” 


260 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ Has the king troubles ? ” asked Conde. 

“ Yes; and serious ones, real ones, my dear cousin.” 

“ And -who, then, is audacious enough to cause Your 
Majesty trouble? ” 

“ A person who, unfortunately, has the right, cousin.” 

“ I know of no one, sire, that has the right to annoy 
the king.” 

“ Ho one ? ” 

“ No one, sire.” 

“ Not even the queen-mother ? ” 

“Ah! ah!” thought the prince to himself, “the 
queen-mother, it seems, has been whipping her baby.” 

Then, aloud, the prince repeated, — ■ 

“Not even the queen-mother, sire.” 

“ Is that your opinion, cousin? ” 

“ It is not only my opinion, sire, but it is also, I 
presume, that of all Your Majesty’s faithful subjects.” 

“ Do you know that you are saying a very serious 
thing. Monsieur cousin ? ” 

“ Serious in what respect, sire ? ” 

“ You are preaching revolt to a son against his 
mother. ” 

And as he spoke he looked on every side, like a man 
afraid of being overheard, although apparently alone. 

In fact, FranQois knew that for any one in possession 
of their ‘secret, the walls of the Louvre transmitted 
sounds as readily as water infiltrates through sand. 

Not daring then to express all his thought, he con- 
tented himself with saying, — 

“ Ah! in your opinion the queen-mother has no right 
to interfere with me. What would you do then, cousin, 
if you were king of France and the queen-mother crossed 
you ? In short, and to be brief, what would you do if 
you were in my place ? ” 


MONSIEUR DE CONDE PREACHES REVOLT. 261 

The prince understood the king’s fear; but as he was, 
under all circumstances, in the habit of saying what he 
thought, he returned, — 

“ What would I do in your place , sire ? ” 

“ Yes! ” 

" In your place, I should revolt.” 

" You would revolt? ” repeated Frangois, joyfully. 

“ Yes,” returned the prince briefly. 

“ But how can I revolt, my dear Louis ? ” demanded 
Francois, drawing near the prince. 

“Why, as any one revolts, sire, — by revolting. 
Consult those who are accustomed to such acts. The 
ways are not numerous, — by refusing to obey, for in- 
stance, or, at least, by doing all that one can to exempt 
one’s self from an unjust authority, an implacable 
tyranny.” 

“But, cousin,” said Francois, thoughtfully, and evi- 
dently meditating upon the prince’s words, “a serf can 
revolt in that way against a lord; but a son can no more 
revolt against his mother, it seems to me, in the abso- 
lute sense of the word, than a subject against his 
king. ” 

“And,” said the prince, “what are these thousands 
of Huguenots who seem to be suddenly springing up 
from the depths of your farthest provinces, in the 
Netherlands, and in Germany, doing at this moment, 
if they are not engaged in a great revolt against the 
pope ? And he is a king, if ever was one ! ” 

“Yes, prince,” answered Francois, from pensive be- 
coming gloomy, “ yes, you are right, and I am grateful 
to you for speaking to me thus. I see you too rarely, 
cousin. You are a member of my family, the man in 
whom I have the most confidence, the courtier for whom 
I entertain the most friendship. From my infancy, 


262 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


dear prince, I have had a sympathetic affection for you, 
which your courageous frankness has fully justified. 
No one else would have spoken to me as you have just 
done. I especially thank you; and, as a proof of my 
gratitude, I am going to bestow on you a confidence 
which 1 have intrusted to no one, and which the queen- 
mother has just now wrested from me.” 

“ Do so, sire.” 

The king threw his arm around Conde’s neck. 

“The more, my dear prince,” he continued, “as I 
shall perhaps need not only the advice that I have just 
asked of you, but your support also.” 

“ I am in every way at Your Majesty’s service.” 

“ Well, my dear cousin, I am desperately in love.” 

“ With Queen Marie ? — I know that, sire,” said 
Conde, “ and it really creates a scandal in the court.” 

“ No, not with Queen Marie, hut with one of her 
maids of honor. ” 

“Ah! ” cried the prince, assuming an air of deepest 
amazement. “ And of course Your Majesty is paid in 
kind ? ” 

“ I am loved beyond all expression, cousin.” 

“ And has Your Majesty received proofs of this 
love ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ I should have been surprised , sire , were it other- 
wise. ” 

“ You do not ask me who she is, Louis. ” 

“ I would not permit myself to question the king ; 
but I am waiting until he is pleased to complete his 
confidence. ” 

“Louis, she is the daughter of one of the greatest 
lords of the Drench court.” 

“ Ah, indeed! ” 


MONSIEUR DE COND^ PREACHES REVOLT, 263 

“ She is the daughter of the Marcchal de Saint Andre, 
Louis. ” 

“Accept my sincere congratulations, sire. Made- 
moiselle de Saint Andre is one of the most beautiful 
persons in the kingdom. ” 

“ Is she not? That is your opinion, is it not, Louis ? ” 
cried the king, overwhelmed with joy. 

“ For a long time I have entertained of Mademoiselle 
de Saint Andre exactly the same opinion as Your 
Majesty.” 

“ It is another congenial sentiment between us, my 
dear cousin.” 

“ I should not dare to boast of it, sire.” 

“ And so. you think I am right, do you ? ” 

“ A hundred times right ! When king or peasant 
meets a girt, he always does right to fall in love with 
her, and especially to make her fall in love with him.” 

“ So that is your opinion, is it? ” 

“And it will be every one’s, excepting Monsieur de 
Joinville’s. Fortunately, the king, I presume, will 
not seek his advice; and as it is probable that he will 
always be ignorant of the honor the king has done his 
fiancee — ” 

“ There you mistake, Louis,” said the king; “ he does 
know it.” 

“ Does Your Majesty mean that he suspects some- 
thing? ” 

“ I tell you that he knows all. ” / 

“ Oh ! it is impossible — ” 

“ But since I say it is so ! ” 

“ Incredible, sire! ” 

“ And yet it must he believed. However,” continued 
the king, knitting his brow, “I should not attach any 
great importance to this fact, if it had not been followed 


264 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


by an extraordinarily grave occurrence which led to the 
violent scene between my mother and me, something of 
which I have told yon.” 

“ But what so serious can have happened, sire ? I 
wait Your Majesty’s pleasure to reveal the depths of this 
mystery,” ingenuously continued the Prince de Conde, 
who, however, knew the whole affair better than any one. 

Thereupon, the king began to relate in rueful accents, 
which from time to time assumed a certain fierce energy, 
the violent scene that had just taken place between him- 
self and his mother. 

The prince listened with profound attention. 

Then, when Francois had ended, he said, — 

“ Well, now, sire, it seems to me that you have come 
off well enough, and you are this time your own master. ” 

The king regarded the prince and, drawing the arm of 
the latter within his own, he said, — 

“Yes, cousin, yes, I came off very well; as long as 
she was present, at least, something resembling the joy 
of the slave that breaks his fetters gave me strength. 
I permitted the queen to leave me with the belief that 
my revolt was serious. But when the door had closed 
behind her, and I was left alone, — come, I must be 
frank with you, — every muscle in my body, every fibre 
of my brain relaxed, and if you had not come, cousin, I 
believe that I should, as at other times, have gone to 
find her, to throw myself at her feet and entreat her 
forgiveness. ” 

“Oh! beware of that, sire!” cried Conde; “you 
would he lost! ” 

“I know that very well,” said the king, clinging to 
Conde’s arm as a shipwrecked mariner clings to the 
floating spar by which he hopes to save his life. 

“ But to inspire such terror, the queen-mother must 


MONSIEUR DE CONDJ^ PREACHES REVOLT. 265 

have threatened you with some dire misfortune, some 
imminent peril.” 

“ She threatened me with civil war.” 

“ Ah! And where does Her Majesty look for civil 
war ? ” 

“ Why, where you yourself saw it hut a moment ago, 
cousin. The Huguenot party is powerful; but Mon- 
sieur de Guise, its enemy, is also powerful. Well, my 
mother, who sees only with the eyes of the Guises, who 
governs the kingdom only under the direction of the 
Guises, who has married me to a woman that is related 
to the Messieurs de Guise, threatens me with the wrath 
and, what is more, the desertion of the Messieurs de 
Guise.” 

“ And in that case, sire ? ” 

" The heretics are masters of the realm.” 

“ And you answered, sire ? ” 

" Nothing, Louis. What could I say ? ” 

“ Oh ! many things, sire.” 

The king shrugged his shoulders. 

“ One among others,” continued the prince. 

“ But what? ” 

“ That there was one means of preventing the here- 
tics from becoming the masters of the realm.” 

“ And this means 1 ” 

“ Is to place yourself at the head of the heretics, sire.” 

The young king remained thoughtful, for a moment, 
with knitted brows. 

“ Yes,” said he, “that is a very wise conception, my 
dear cousin; one of those games of see-saw, at which my 
mother is an adept. But the Protestants hate me. ” 

“ And why do they hate you, sire? They know that, 
thus far, you have been but an instrument in your 
mother’s hands.” 


266 


THE HOROSCOPE, 


“ Instrument I instrument ! ” repeated FranQois. 

“ Said you not so yourself just now, sire ? The 
Huguenot party has not sided against the king; it 
hates the queen-mother, that is all.” 

“Indeed, I hate her myself,” muttered the young 
king under his breath. 

The prince overheard the words, low as they had been 
spoken. 

“ Well, sire?” he demanded. 

The king looked at his cousin. 

“If the plan seems good to you,” continued the 
prince, “ why not adopt it? ” 

“ They would not trust me, Louis; they must have 
some pledge, and — what pledge have I to give them ? ” 
“You are right, sire; but the season is propitious. 
It is in your power to give them a pledge at this moment, 
a truly royal pledge, a man’s life.” 

“ I do not understand,” said the king. 

“ You can pardon Councillor Dubourg. ” 

“ My dear cousin,” said the king, turning pale, “ here, 
in this very room, my mother said to me just now, 
speaking of him, — ‘ He must die ! ’ ” 

“And you yourself, sire, then said that he must 
live ? ” 

“ What! pardon Councillor Dubourg! ” whispered the 
young king looking about him, as if frightened at the 
bare thought that he could grant a pardon. 

“ Why, yes, sire, pardon Councillor Dubourg. What, 
then, is so astonishing in that ? ” 

“Nothing, certainly, cousin.” 

“ Is it not your right? ” 

“ It is the king’s right, I know.” 

“ Well, are you not the king? ” 

“ I have not yet been so , at least. ” 


MONSIEUR DE COND^ PREACHES REVOLT. 267 


“ Well, sire, it would be a noble approach to royalty, 
a lofty step to the throne.” 

“ But — the councillor, Anne Dubourg 1 ” 

“ Is one of the most upright men in your kingdom. 
Ask Monsieur de T Hospital, who knows.” 

“ I know, indeed, that he is an honest man.” 

“Ah! sire, it is already much for you to have said 
that. ” 

“ Much? ” 

“ Yes. A king does not condemn to death a man whom 
he has declared to be an honest man. ”> 

“ He is dangerous. ” 

“ An honest man is never dangerous. ” 

“ But the Messieurs de Guise detest him. ” 

“Ah!” 

“ And the queen-mother detests him.” 

“ The more reason, sire, for beginning your rebellion 
against the Messieurs de Guise and against the queen- 
mother by pardoning Councillor Dubourg.” 

“ My dear cousin ! ” 

“ Dame ! I hope that Your Majesty is not giving him- 
self the trouble to revolt against the queen-mother 
merely for amusement. ” 

“True, Louis; but Monsieur Dubourg's death is de- 
cided upon. The question has been settled by the Mes- 
sieurs de Guise, my mother, and myself; there is no 
escaping that.” 

The Prince de Conde could not refrain from casting a 
look of disdain upon this king, who regarded the death 
of one of the most upright magistrates of the realm 
as a settled thing, and one from which there was no 
escape, while this magistrate was still alive, and the 
king had but to say one word in order to prevent 
his death. 


268 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ As the question is ‘ settled,’ sire,” he repeated, 
with an accent of profound contempt, “ let us say no 
more about it.” 

And he was about to salute the king and retire, but 
the king arrested him. 

“Yes, that is it,” said he, “ let us say no more about 
the councillor; let us talk of something else.” 

“ And of what, sire? ” demanded the prince, who had 
come for that alone. 

“ Why, in short, my dear prince, is there but one 
way out of the embarrassing situation? You are an 
inventive genius; find me a second means.” 

“ Sire, it was God who found you the first. Man will 
invent nothing to equal it. ” 

“ In truth, my dear cousin,” said the young king, “ I 
myself feel compunction at the thought of causing an 
innocent man to die.” 

“ Then, sire,” continued the prince with real sol- 
emnity, “ listen to the voice of your conscience. Good 
deeds are fruitful, causing love for his king to flourish 
in the heart of the subject. Pardon Monsieur Dubourg, 
sire, and from the day on which you grant the pardon, 
thus asserting your royal prerogative, all will know that 
you reign as the sovereign, the true king I ” 

“ Do you wish it, Louis? ” 

“Sire, I ask it as a favor, and that I swear in the 
interest of Your Majesty ! ” 

“ But what will the queen say ? ” 

“ Which queen, Sire ? ” 

“ The queen-mother, pardieu ! ” 

“ Sire, there should be no queen in the Louvre other 
than the virtuous spouse of Your Majesty. Madame 
Catherine is queen because she is feared. Make your- 
self loved, sire, and you will be king! ” 


MONSIEUR DE CONDl^ PREACHES REVOLT. 269 


The king appeared by an effort to arrive at a final 
resolution. 

“ Well, I will repeat the word that you so sharply 
caught up. It is ‘ settled,’ my dear Louis,” said he. 
“ Thank you for your wise counsel, thank you for 
prompting me to do an act of justice, thank you for 
arousing my remorse! Give me pen and parchment.” 

The Prince de Conde drew the king’s chair up to the 
table. 

The king sat down. 

The Prince de Conde presented tlie parchment for 
which he had asked. The king took the pen which the 
prince handed him, and wrote the essential clause; — 

“Fran9ois, by the grace of God, king of France, to all 
to whom these presents shall come, greeting : — ” 

He had written thus far when the officer whom he had 
sent to the Hotel Coligny entered and announced 
Madame PAmirale. 

The king broke off at that point, rose abruptly, and 
from the gentle look his face had been wearing, it took 
on an indefinable expression of ferocity. 

“What is the matter, sire?” inquired the Prince de 
Conde, struck with amazement at sight of this brusque 
change of countenance. 

“You shall see, cousin.” 

Then, turning to the officer, he said, — 

“ Show in Madame PAmirale.” 

“ Madame PAmirale is undoubtedly admitted to an 
audience with Your Majesty on some personal matter, 
sire ? ” said the prince. “ I will retire, if Your Majesty 
will permit.” 

“No! On the contrary, I desire you to remain, my 
dear cousin, to be present at our conversation, to lose 


270 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


not a word of it. You already know how I pardon,” 
said he, pointing to the parchment. “ I will show you 
how I punish.” 

The Prince de Conde felt something like a shudder 
pass over him. He felt that the audience of the 
admiral’s wife with the king, where she never came 
except when constrained by force, had some connection 
with the cause that had brought himself there, and he 
had a vague presentiment that he was about to witness 
a terrible scene. 

A few moments after the tapestry had fallen it was 
raised again, and the wife of the admiral appeared. 


THE KING CHANGES HIS MIND. 


271 


XXIII. 

IN WHICH THE KING CHANGES HIS MIND WITH RE- 
GARD TO MONSIEUR DE CONDE AND COUNCILLOR 
ANNE DUBOURG. 

Before perceiving the king, Madame I’Amirale had 
first caught sight of the Prince de Conde upon whom 
she was prepared to cast a very smiling and affectionate 
glance, when that glance unexpectedly encountered the 
king’s face. 

The angry expression imprinted upon his countenance 
made the admiral’s wife lower her head, and approach 
with trembling. 

Arrived before the king, she courtesied. 

“ I have sent for you, Madame I’Amirale,” said the 
king, his lips blanched and his teeth set, “ to demand 
the answer to an enigma over which I have puzzled in 
vain since this morning.” 

“I am always at Your Majesty’s command,” stam- 
mered the admiral’s wife. 

“ Even to the solution of enigmas ? ” continued 
Francois. “ So much the better. I am delighted to 
know it, and we will forthwith set to work.” 

Madame I’Amirale bowed. 

“ Will you, therefore, explain to our dear cousin De 
Conde and to us, ” resumed the king, “ how it happens 
that a note written by our order to a member of the 
court was lost by you last evening, in the apartment of 
the queen -mother ? ” 


272 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


The time had come for the Prince de Condd to un- 
derstand the portent of the shudder he had felt when 
Madame PAmirale was announced. 

The whole truth rose before his eyes as if it had 
sprung from the earth, with the king’s terrible words 
humming in his ears: “I will show you how I can 
punish! ” 

He glanced at the admiral’s wife. 

The latter’s eyes were fixed upon him, as if she were 
inquiring, “ What must I answer the king? ” 

The king did not observe the pantomime of the two 
accomplices, and continued, — 

“Well, Madame I’Amirale, there is the enigma 
stated; we ask you for the key to it.” 

Madame I’Amirale was silent. 

The king went on, — 

“ But perhaps you have not quite understood my ques- 
tion : I will repeat it. How does it happen that a note 
which was not addressed to you came into your hands, 
and by what carelessness or by what perfidy was this 
note dropped from your pocket on the carpet of the 
queen-mother’s apartment to find its way into the hands 
of Monsieur de Joinville ? ” 

The admiral’s wife had had time to collect her 
thoughts. 

“ Very simply, sire,” said she, recovering her self- 
possession. “ I found the note in the corridor of the 
Louvre leading to the Salle des Metamorphoses. I 
picked it up, I read it, and, not knowing the writing, I 
carried it with me to the queen-mother’s room purposing 
to ask if she were wiser than I. There was with Her 
Majesty a large assemblage of writers and poets, and 
among them Monsieur de Bran tome, who told such 
ridiculous stories that all laughed till they cried, I with 


THE KING CHANGES HIS MIND. 


273 


the rest, sire, and so heartily that while laughing I. 
drew ou-t my handkerchief, and my handkerchief of 
itself caused that unfortunate note which I had for- 
gotten, to slip out and fall to the floor. When I tried 
to find it, it was no longer there, neither in my pocket 
nor beside me, and I presume that Monsieur de Join- 
ville had already picked it up. ” 

“ The thing has a semblance of truth, ” said the king 
with a derisive smile; “hut Ido not accept it for the 
truth, however much it may resemble it.” 

“What may Your Majesty mean?” demanded the 
admiral’s wife with misgiving. 

“ You found this note ? ” 

“Yes, sire.” 

“ Well, then, nothing is easier than for you to tell 
me in what it was wrapped. ” 

“ Why,” stammered the admiral’s wife, “it was not 
wrapped in anything, sire — ” 

“ It was not wrapped in anything ? ” 

“No,” said the admiral’s wife turning pale; “ it was 
simply folded in four.” 

A light flashed through the brain of Monsieur le 
Prince de Conde. 

Evidently Mademoiselle de Saint Andre had explained 
to the king the loss of her note by the loss of her hand- 
kerchief. Unfortunately, what became clear to Mon- 
sieur de Conde remained obscure to Madame I’Amirale. 

She hung her head then under the king’s scrutiniz- 
ing eye, more and more disconcerted, confessing by her 
silence that she had merited the anger which she felt 
resting upon her. 

“ Madame I’Amirale,” said Fran9ois, “you must con- 
fess that, for a devout person like yourself, this is one 
of the boldest of lies.” 


18 


274 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ Sire! ” stammered the admiral’s wife. 

“ Are these the fruits of the new religion, madame ? ” 
continued the king. “Here was our cousin Conde, 
although a Catholic prince, just now preaching the 
reformation to us in truly touching terms. Answer 
Madame I’Amirale yourself, dear cousin, and tell her 
in our behalf that, to whatever religion one belongs, it 
is never safe to deceive one’s king.” 

“Pardon, sire,” stammered the admiral’s wife, as she 
saw the king’s wrath mounting with the swiftness of the 
tide. 

“And with regard to what are you asking pardon, 
Madame I’Amirale?” said Francois. “I would have 
staked my life but an hour ago, whatever might have 
been said of you, that you were the strictest person in 
my kingdom.” 

“ Sire! ” cried the admiral’s wife, proudly lifting her 
head, “ your anger, if you will, but not your derision. 
It is true I did not find the note.” 

“ Ah ! you confess it ? ” cried the king triumphantly. 

“ Yes, sire,” replied the admiral’s wife simply. 

“ Then some one gave it to you. ” 

“ Yes, sire.” 

The prince was following the conversation with the 
manifest intention of engaging in it when he should 
deem the moment opportune. 

“And who gave it to you, Madame I’Amirale?” 
demanded the king. 

“I cannot name the person, sire,” said Madame de 
Coligny, firmly. 

“But why not, cousin,” said the Prince de Condd, 
interrupting her. 

“Yes, why not?” rejoined the king, enchanted that 
re-enforcement was at hand. 


THE KING CHANGES HIS MIND. 275 

The admiral’s wife looked at the prince as if to ask 
an explanation of his words. 

“ Of course,” continued the prince, in response to the 
mute interrogation of the admiral’s wife, “I have no 
reason for concealing the truth from the king.” 

“Ah!” exclaimed the king, turning toward the 
Prince de Conde, “ you know the rights of this story, 
do you 1 ” 

“ Perfectly, sire.” 

“ And how does that happen 1 ” 

“ Why, sire, because I played a leading role in it.” 

“ You, monsieur? ” 

“ I myself, sire.” 

“ And how does it happen that you have not said a 
word to me about it until now 1 ” 

“Because, sire,” replied the prince without discom- 
fiture, “ because you have not done me the honor to 
question me, and because I could not permit myself to 
relate an anecdote, whatever it might be, to my gracious 
sovereign, without being authorized by him.” 

“I like your deference, cousin Louis. However, 
respect has its limits, and one can anticipate the ques- 
tions of his sovereign when one thinks to be of use or, 
at least, agreeable to him. Do me the favor then, mon- 
sieur, to disclose all you know of the matter, and the 
role you have played in this story.” 

“ I played the part of accident. It was I who found 
the note.” 

“ Ah! it was you! ” said the king, frowning and re- 
garding the prince with severity. “ Then I am no longer 
surprised that you awaited my questions. Ah ! it was 
you who found the note ? ” 

“ It was I, yes, sire.” 

“ And where ? ” 


276 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ In the lobby leading to the Salle des Metamor- 
phoses, as Madame I’Amirale just now had the honor 
to tell you.” 

The king’s glance shot from the prince to the admiral’s 
wife, as if endeavoring to fathom whatever of connivance 
might exist between them. 

“Then, my dear cousin,” said he, “ since you found 
it, you must know in what it was confined.” 

“ It was not confined, sire.” 

“What!” cried the king with blanched face, “dare 
you tell me that the note was not confined ? ” 

“ Yes, sire, I have the boldness to tell the truth, and 
I have the honor to repeat to Your Majesty that the 
billet was not confined, but daintily enveloped.” 

“Enveloped or confined, monsieur,” said the king, 
“ is it not the same thing 1 ” 

“Ah! sire,” said the prince, “there is an extraor- 
dinary diiference between the two words. A prisoner is 
confined, but a letter is enveloped.” 

“I did not know you were so skilled in linguistics, 
cousin. ” 

“ The leisure that peace affords permits me to study 
letters, sire! ” 

“ Finally, monsieur, to make an end of this, tell me 
in what the note was enveloped or confined. ” 

“ In a delicate handkerchief embroidered in the four 
corners, sire, and it was in one of these corners that the 
billet was knotted. ” 

“ Where is the handkerchief ? ” 

The prince drew the handkerchief from his pocket. 

“ Here it is, sire ! ” 

The king violently snatched the handkerchief from 
the Prince de Conde’s hands. 

“ Good ! But now, how does it happen that the note 


THE KING CHANGES HIS MIND. 277 

found by you should be in Madame I’Amirale’s 
hands ? ” 

“Nothing could be simpler, sire. In descending the 
stairs of the Louvre, I met Madame TAmirale and said 
to her, ‘ Cousin, here is a note lost by some gentleman 
or lady of the Louvre. Be so kind as to learn who has 
lost a note, an easy matter for you, through Dandelot, 
who is in charge, and return the note, I beg, to its 
owner! ’ ” 

“That was very natural, certainly, cousin,” said the 
king, who did not believe a word of the whole story. 

“ Then, sire,” said the Prince de Conde, moving as 
if to retire, “ since I liave had the honor to satisfy 
Your Majesty entirely — ” 

But the king stopped him by a gesture. 

“ One word more, cousin, if you please,” said he. 

“ Willingly, sire! ” 

“Madame PAmirale,” said the king, turning to 
Madame de Coligny, “ I know that you are a loyal sub- 
ject; for in the position in which you were placed before 
Monsieur le Prince de Conde you said all you could say. 
I ask your pardon for having put you to inconvenience. 
You are free and continue in our good graces. The 
remainder of the explanation rests with Monsieur de 
Conde.” 

The admiral’s wife saluted and withdrew. 

Monsieur de Conde would gladly have done as much; 
but he was detained by the king’s order. 

The admiral’s wife having departed, the king ap- 
proached the prince with his teeth set, his lips purple. 

“ Monsieur,” said he, “you had no need to resort to 
Madame PAmirale to find out to whom the note was 
addressed. ” 

“ Why not, sire ? ” 


278 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ Because here in one corner of the handkerchief are 
the initials, and in another the arms, of Mademoiselle 
de Saint Andre. ” 

It was Monsieur de Conde’s turn to hang his head. 

“ You knew the note belonged to Mademoiselle de 
Saint Andre, and knowing that you allowed it to fall 
into the hands of the queen-mother.” 

“ Your Majesty will at least do me the justice to 
admit that I was ignorant of its having been written by 
his order, and that its being known could compromise 
him.” 

“ Monsieur, you who so well know the force of the 
words of the French language, ought to know that noth- 
ing can compromise my majesty. I do what 1 please, 
and no one sees anything or says anything about it, and 
the proof — ” 

He went to the table and lifted the parchment already 
crossed by a line and a half of his writing. 

“ And the proof, here — ” 

He was about to tear the parchment. 

“ Ah ! sire, let your anger fall upon me, and not on 
an innocent man ! ” 

“ From the moment that my enemy protects him, he 
is no longer innocent in my eyes, monsieur.” 

“Your enemy, sire!” cried the prince; “does the 
king consider me his enemy ? ” 

• “ Why not, since from this moment I am yours? ” 

And he rent the parchment. 

“ Sire, sire, in the name of heaven! ” cried the prince. 

“ Monsieur, here is my answer to the threats you just 
now made in the name of the Huguenot party. I defy it, 
monsieur, and you along with it, if perchance you should 
see fit to assume its command. This day. Councillor 
Anne Dubourg shall be executed.” 


THE KING CHANGES HIS MIND. 279 

“ Sire, the blood of an innocent man, a just man, will 
flow. ” 

“Well,” said the king, “let it flow, and let it fall 
drop hy drop on the head of him who spilled it.” 

“ And that, sire ? ” 

“ Is you. Monsieur de Conde! ” 

And, pointing to the door, he said to the prince, — 

“ Go , monsieur ! ” 

“ But, sire — ” insisted the prince. 

“ Go, I say! ” repeated the king between his set teeth 
and with a stamp of his foot. “ It is not safe for you to 
remain ten minutes longer in the Louvre ! ” 

The prince bowed and retired. 

Overcome, the king fell back into his chair, his 
elbows on the table, his head in his hands. 


280 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


XXIV. 

A DECLARATION OF WAR. 

One can easily understand that, if the king was furious, 
the Prince de Conde was preyed upon by a rage no less 
great, and his rage was the more intense because he could 
blame no one but himself for what had happened, since 
it was he who had gone to Mademoiselle de Saint 
Andre’s, it was he who had discovered the note in the 
handkerchief, it was he, in short, who had delivered the 
note to Madame de Coligny. 

And so, like all people who find themselves involved 
in embarrassments by their own fault, he resolved to 
brave it through to the end, and to burn the very last 
ship by which he might make a retreat. 

Besides, after suffering all he had suffered at the 
hands of Mademoiselle de Saint Andre, an act of deeper 
despair, for it would have resembled shame and impo- 
tence, would have been to retire without shooting as he 
went the Parthian dart of revenge, which so often returns 
to pierce the heart of the lover that aims it. 

Now, his revenge on the king was already shaped; 
but revenge on Mademoiselle de Saint Andre, — he 
hesitated. 

For an instant, he asked himself whether it was not 
rather cowardly for him, a man, to avenge himself on a 
woman; but even as he questioned, he told himself that 
here was no weak enemy, — this young girl with her 
crafty, vindictive nature, who would be, that very day, 
undoubtedly, the declared mistress of the king. 


A DECLARATION OF WAR. 


281 


Yes, certainly, it would be risking less danger to 
challenge the bravest and most skilful gentleman of the 
court than to engage in a merciless quarrel with Made- 
moiselle de Saint Andre. 

He well knew that once embroiled with her it was 
war to the death, without truce or respite, that he would 
need to stand firm, and that this war, teeming with 
dangers, with snares, with attacks open and under- 
handed, would last as long as the king’s love endured. 

And, considering the splendid beauty of his enemy, 
her multiple character, her temperament, full of lasciv- 
ious intoxication, he understood that this love, like that 
of Henri II. for the Duchesse de Valentinois, would 
endure as long as life. 

Therefore, although he was not facing the danger of 
the brave man who goes to beard the lion, he was court- 
ing the peril, as serious in another way although appar- 
ently less grave, of the imprudent traveller who, armed 
with a simple stick, amuses himself by teasing the 
beautiful cobra whose least bite is deadly. 

This danger was in reality so great, that the prince 
asked himself an instant whether it was necessary, in- 
deed, to add this fresh bolt to the thunder and lightning 
already rumbling above his head. 

But, as he had hesitated when, before this reflection, 
he had feared to stoop to a cowardly act, so he felt him- 
self irresistibly impelled when he saw that his action, 
cowardly in appearance, was in reality rash to very folly. 

Had he been obliged to descend the stairs, cross the 
court, ascend again into the main building, to give him- 
self, in short, time for more serious reflection between 
leaving the king’s apartment and entering Mademoiselle 
de Saint Andre’s, perhaps reason would have come to 
his aid, and, like Minerva of old leading Ulysses from 


282 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


the fray, the frigid goddess might have led him away 
from the Louvre. But unfortunately, the prince had 
but to follow the corridor in which he then was to find 
at his left, after two or three turns. Mademoiselle de 
Saint Andre’s door. 

Every step that he took he felt to he bringing him 
nearer to it, and at every step the pulsations of his 
heart increased in rapidity and violence. 

At last he arrived abreast of the door. 

He could turn his head, pass by, and continue on his 
way. Such, doubtless, was the advice given him by 
his good angel, but he listened only to his bad one. 
He stood as if his feet were taking root in the floor, 
and Daphne changed into a laurel-tree was not, seem- 
ingly, more immovably fixed in the earth. 

After a moment, not of hesitation, but of reflection, 
he exclaimed, like Caesar hurling his javelin from the 
other side of the Rubicon, — 

“ Aleajacta est ! ” 

And he knocked. 

The door was opened. 

There might yet remain to the prince the chance that 
Mademoiselle de Saint Andre was out, or that she would 
not receive him. 

Destiny was written, however, and Mademoiselle de 
Saint Andre was at home, and the two words, “ Admit 
him,” reached the prince’s ears. 

In the interval occurring during his passage from the 
antechamber where he awaited the answer, to the bou- 
doir where this answer had been uttered in tones suffi- 
ciently loud for him to hear, Louis de Conde saw like a 
vision before his eyes and his heart the whole great 
panorama of the six months that had just rolled away, 
from the day on which, in a frightful rain-storm, he 


A DECLARATION OF WAR. 


283 


had met the young girl in that shabby inn near Saint 
Denis, down to the hour when he had seen her enter 
the Salle des Metamorphoses with a branch of myrtle 
entwined in her hair, and when his indiscreet gaze had 
not lost sight of her an instant, until the moment when, 
of all her adornings worn on entering the Salle, she had 
preserved but that branch of myrtle. 

And, as this panorama unrolled before his sight, he 
saw repeated, rapidly though it was, that scene of the 
night at Saint Cloud between the young girl and the 
page; then he saw her again at the edge of the great 
basin in the half light which the trembling shadow of 
plane-trees and willows shed upon her; then he saw 
himself standing motionless under her windows, longing 
for a blind to be opened and a flower or a note to fall at 
his feet; finally, he saw himself again beneath the bed 
where on the first night he had waited in vain when one 
had not come, and where, on the second, he had seen 
not only those come whom he was expecting, but others 
still whom he was not expecting; and all these various 
sensations, the vision of the inn, the jalousie with its 
concealed witness, the contemplation of the girl admir- 
ing herself in the pond, the impatient waiting beneath 
her window, the anguish of the lover in the Salle des 
Metamorphoses, — all these sensations mounting to his 
brain, causing his temples to throb, rending his heart, 
torturing his vitals, seized and assailed him at once 
in the space of a few seconds. 

Thus it was, trembling and pale with anger, love, 
shame, and hate, that he discovered himself in the 
presence of Mademoiselle de Saint Andre. 

Mademoiselle de Saint Andre was alone. 

When she perceived the prince hiding all the opposing 
sentiments which were struggling within him under a 


284 


THE HOROSCOPE, 


tolerably impertinent air, when she saw the smile of 
derision perched on his lips like the American mocking- 
bird upon its branch, the young girl knitted her brows, 
but imperceptibly. Hers, in the matter of dissimulation, 
was a soul quite as hardened in one sense as that of the 
Prince de Conde. 

The prince bowed with an easy air. 

Mademoiselle de Saint Andre did not mistake the 
significance of that bow; she understood that an enemy 
was in her presence. 

But she permitted not a gleam of penetration to be 
apparent, and, to the prince’s graceful bow and mocking 
smile, she replied with a low and gracious courtesy. 

Then, smiling at him with the gentlest of eyes and 
addressing him in the most winning of tones, she 
asked, — 

“To what saint, prince, do I owe thanks for this 
visit, as early as it is unexpected ? ” 

“To Saint Aspasia, mademoiselle,” returned the 
prince, bowing with feigned respect. 

“Monseigneur,” replied the girl, “I doubt whether I 
shall find her name on the calendar in this year of grace, 
1559, however minutely I may search.” 

“Then, mademoiselle, if you absolutely must thank 
some saint for the slender favor of my presence, wait 
until Mademoiselle de Valentinois is dead and has been 
canonized, — which cannot fail to happen, if you recom- 
mend it to the king.” 

“ As I doubt whether my influence extends so far, 
monseigneur, I will limit myself to thanking you your- 
self, at the same time asking very humbly what procures 
me the pleasure of seeing you. ” 

“What! Can you not guess ? ” 

“ No.” 


A DECLARATION OF WAR. 


285 


“ I have come to tender my very sincere congratula- 
tions on the recent favor with which His Majesty has 
honored you.” 

The young woman flushed scarlet; then, by a sudden 
reaction, her cheeks were overspread by a deadly pallor. 

And yet she was very far from suspecting the truth. 
She thought merely that the night’s adventure had 
already been noised abroad, and that the echo had reached 
the ears of the prince. 

She contented herself therefore by turning on the 
prince a look which preserved a medium between inquiry 
and defiance. 

The prince appeared to observe nothing of the look. 

“Well,” asked he smilingly, “what is the matter 
now, mademoiselle, and how can the congratulations I 
have had the honor of addressing to you have been able 
instantaneously to lend your cheeks the color of your 
lips, — it is true they did not retain it long, — and then 
that of the handkerchief that you did me the honor 
to present me the other night 1 ” 

The prince dwelt on these last words so significantly 
that there was no longer any doubt as to the expression 
on Mademoiselle de Saint Andre’s face. 

It turned wholly to defiance. 

“ Beware, monseigneur! ” said she in a voice the more 
terrible for affecting perfect calmness. “ I believe you 
have come here with the intention of insulting me.” 

“Do you think me capable of such audacity, made- 
moiselle ? ” 

“ Or of such cowardice, monseigneur. Which of the 
two words would be the more appropriate in this case ? ” 

“ It is what I asked myself at the door, mademoiselle. 
My response was, ^ Audacity ! ’ — and I entered. ” 

“ Then you confess that such was your intention? ” 


286 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“Perhaps. But, upon reflection, I have preferred to 
present myself in quite a different character. ” 

“ And what is that ? ” 

“ As an old adorer of your charms, transformed into a 
courtier of your fortune. ” 

“ And, doubtless, in this capacity, you come to seek a 
favor. ” 

“ A great favor, mademoiselle.” 

“ What is it?” 

“ That you will consent to pardon me for having been 
the cause of last night’s untimely visit.” 

Mademoiselle de Saint Andre stared at the prince 
with an air of doubt, for she could not believe that a 
man would so imprudently and deliberately walk into 
an abyss. From pale, she became livid. 

“ Prince,” said she, “ is it really as you say ? ” 

“ It is.” 

“ In that case , let me tell you that you must simply 
have lost your mind. ” 

“I simply think, on the contrary, that I had lost it 
up to that moment, and that at that moment only did I 
find it again. ” 

“ But do you think, too, that such an insult will 
remain unpunished, monsieur, prince though you are, or 
do you hope that I will not inform the king ? ” 

“ Oh! that is unnecessary.” 

“ It is unnecessary ? ” 

Mon DieUy yes, because I have just informed him 
myself.” 

“ And did you tell him also that on leaving him you 
intended coming here ? ” 

“ No, by my faith! for I had not thought of it; the 
idea occurred to me on the way. Your door lay in my 
path, and you know the proverb; * Opportunity makes 


A DECLARATION OF WAR. 


287 


the thief.’ I said to myself that it would he truly 
curious if by good luck I were the first to congratulate 
you. Am I the first? ” 

“Yes, monsieur, and I accept the compliment,” said 
Mademoiselle de Saint Andrd, haughtily. 

“Ah! since you take it so well, let me pay you 
another.” 

“ On what ? ” 

“ On the taste of your toilet upon so momentous an 
occasion.” 

Mademoiselle de Saint Andre bit her lips. The 
prince was enticing her on ground where it was difficult 
to defend herself to advantage. 

“You are a man of imagination, monseigneur,” said 
she, “ and have you not surely, thanks to your imagina- 
tion, accredited me with a toilet very superior to the one 
that I wore in reality ? ” 

“ No, I swear; it was simple, on the contrary. There 
was especially a spray of myrtle entwined in those beau- 
tiful tresses.” 

“ A spray of myrtle! ” cried the girl. “ How did you 
know that I wore a spray of myrtle in my hair ? ” 

“ I saw it. ” 

“ You saw it? ” 

Mademoiselle de Saint Andre began to he thoroughly 
mystified, and felt her self-possession deserting her. 

“ Come, prince,” said she, “ continue; T enjoy fables.” 

“ Then you must remember that of Narcissus — Nar- 
cissus enamored of himself and gazing at his reflection 
in a stream.” 

“What, then?” 

“ Well, on the night before last, I saw something 
similar, or rather, quite as admirable in a different way : 
it was a young girl enamored of herself and regarding 


288 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


her image in a mirror with no less pleasure than Nar- 
cissus felt when gazing into the brook. ” 

Mademoiselle de Saint Andre uttered a cry. It was 
impossible for the prince to have invented that, or that 
it should have been told him. She was alone, or rather 
she thought she was alone in the Salle de Metamor- 
phoses when the scene to which he referred had taken 
place. The blush gained the upper hand, — she became 
purple. 

“ You lie! ” she exclaimed. 

Mademoiselle de Saint Andre’s voice was a snarl be- 
tween her teeth; however, she endeavored to dissemble 
the snarl under a burst of laughter. 

“Oh! ” she continued, “what a fine story you have 
composed.” 

“ Yes, you are right, the story is fine; but what is it 
in comparison with the reality 1 Unfortunately, the 
reality was as transitory as a dream. The beautiful 
nymph awaited a god, and after all the god could not 
come, the goddess, his wife, having fallen from her horse 
like a simple mortal and sustained an injury.” 

“ Have you yet other tales of that sort to relate, mon- 
sieur ? ” said Mademoiselle de Saint Andre between her 
teeth, quite ready, in spite of her strength, to allow her 
wrath to gain the mastery. 

“No, I have only a word more: the rendezvous was 
postponed until the next night. This is all I came to 
tell you; and, with this, in the hope of the future, per- 
mit me to conclude as if I were the king, the present 
visit having no further purpose, — wdth this, I pray God 
to have you in his high and holy keeping! ” 

And, with this, in fact, the Prince de Conde retired 
with the insolence that, two centuries later, made the 
reputations of Lauzun and Eichelieu. 


A DECLARATION OF WAR. 


289 


At the head of the stairs he paused and cast a glance 
behind. 

“ Good ! ” said he, “ here am I embroiled with the 
queen-mother, with the king, with Mademoiselle de 
Saint Andre, — and all at one blow. A fine morning, 
in faith! for a younger son of Navarre. Bah! ” added 
he philosophically, “ it is true that younger sons get 
off where their elders could not.” 

And he slowly descended the stairs, cavalierly crossed 
the court, and saluted the sentinel, who presented arms. 


19 


290 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


XXV. 

THE SON OF THE CONDEMNED. 

We have said that the prince had made an appointment 
to meet Robert Stuart between the hours of seven and 
eight o’clock in the square in front of the church of Saint- 
Germain-!’ Auxerrois. 

To repair to the rendezvous he could easily cross the 
bridge of Notre-Dame and the Pont aux Moulins; hut a 
magnet drew him toward the Louvre. He crossed the 
river with the ferry-man, and went ashore in front of the 
Tour de Bois. 

His way lay to the right, he kept to the left. 

He went toward danger as the imprudent moth flies to 
the light. 

He knew this road well ; during four or five months he 
had hopefully followed it every evening. 

Now that he hoped no longer, why did he still choose it ? 

He pursued then the old course; and, passing under 
the windows of Mademoiselle de Saint Andre, he stopped 
as he had been in the habit of stopping. 

He knew those windows well ! 

The first three were those of Charlotte’s bedroom and 
boudoir; the other four were the marechal’s. 

Then, beyond the marechal’s four windows came still 
another window, to which he had never paid any attention. 

That window was always dark, perhaps because the 
room on which it opened was never lighted, perhaps 
because thick curtains carefully drawn kept the light 
from filtering through. 


THE SON OF THE CONDEMNED. 291 

This time, as at others, he would have paid no atten- 
tion to that window, had he not heard a creaking of its 
hinges. Then he thought he saw a hand reach through 
the half-opened shutters, and from the hand flit like a 
night-moth a little paper which, borne on the evening 
breeze, seemed to be making every effort to reach its 
destination. 

The hand disappeared, and the window was shut before 
the paper had yet touched the ground. 

The prince caught it on the wing, without, indeed, 
accounting for his action, or knowing whether it was 
intended for him. 

Then, as the hour of half-past seven sounded from the 
clock of Saint-Germain-rAuxerrois, he remembered his 
appointment and turned in the direction whither the 
vibrating bronze seemed to be calling him. 

Meanwhile, he turned over and over the note in his 
hands ; but the darkness of the night prevented his learn- 
ing the import of his frail conquest. 

At the corner of the Kue Chilperic was a small inn, in 
the wall of which a niche had been contrived. In the 
niche was a little Madonna of gilded wood, and before 
the Madonna burned a resin candle, a sort of beacon 
directing the course of zealous Catholics to a Christian inn 
and a devout inn-keeper, but which to the belated trav- 
eller cried aloud, “ You can get a night’s lodging here.” 

The Prince de Conde approached the house, mounted 
the stone bench placed beside the door, and, standing 
under the beacon’s flickering light, he read with amaze- 
ment the following lines: — 

“ The king is momentarily reconciled with the queen- 
mother ; this evening they will be present at the execution 
of Anne Dubourg. I dare not say, fly ! but I do say, enter the 
Louvre under no pretext whatever ; your life is at stake.” 


292 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


The amazement with which the prince read the first 
lines changed to stupefaction with the last sentence. 
Whence came this warning? From a friend certainly. 
But of what sex was this friend ? Was it a man or a 
woman? No, it was a woman; a man would not have 
MTitten thus. 

Besides, there were no men in the palace of the 
Louvre. There were only courtiers, and a courtier would 
have thought twice before risking the disgrace that his 
charity would earn. 

So it was not a man. 

But if it was a woman, who was she ? 

What woman could have taken a lively enough interest 
in him to get embroiled at a stroke, supposing the chari- 
table warning which she had given the prince were known, 
— to get embroiled at a stroke, we repeat, with the king, 
the queen-mother, and Mademoiselle de Saint Andre ? 

But perhaps it was Mademoiselle de Saint Andr4 her- 
self ! 

Oh ! as to that, after a moment’s reflection, the prince 
knew well that it was impossible. He had too cruelly 
M'ounded the lioness, and the lioness must still be nursing 
the wound he had inflicted. 

He had, indeed, in the Louvre two or three former 
mistresses, but he had quarrelled with them, and when 
women no longer love, they hate. 

Only one had still perhaps some remaining tenderness 
for him, pretty Mademoiselle de Limeuil, — but he knew 
of old the pothooks of the charming child ; it was not her 
writing, and no one would take the chances of employing 
a secretary to write such a note. After all, was it a 
woman’s handwriting ? 

. The prince stood on tiptoe to get as near as possible to 
the light. 


THE SON OF THE CONDEMNED. 


293 


Yes, it was certainly a woman’s writing, and in spite of 
the masterly turn of those characters which we can com- 
pare only to a fine English hand of our time, an expert 
would not have been deceived, and the prince, from the 
great number of their letters received, had become an 
expert with regard to women’s handwriting. While the 
down-strokes were strong, the up-strokes were delicate, 
graceful, and effeminate. 

Then the little billet was so neat altogether, the paper 
so fine, so velvety, so silky, and betrayed so sweet a per- 
fume of feminine bedroom or boudoir, that most decidedly 
it was from a woman. 

Then again arose the question which had received no 
answer, — who was she ? 

The Prince de Conde, who had completely forgotten 
his rendezvous, being wholly preoccupied with his letter, 
would have spent the night in seeking this woman’s name, 
and, in all probability he would have sought in vain, if, 
fortunately for him, Eobert Stuart, who saw him in the 
distance perched on his bench, and whose heart was agi- 
tated by a preoccupation quite as profound, had not sud- 
denly appeared, as if he had sprung from the earth in the 
circle of light thrown out by the candle. 

He bowed low before the prince. 

The prince blushed at being surprised in reading the 
note, and the way in which he blushed confirmed his 
own certainty that it had come from a woman. 

“ It is I, prince, ” said the young man. 

“ You see, monsieur, that I keep my word, ” said the 
prince, leaping down from the stone bench. 

“ And I, ” said Eobert Stuart, “ am waiting for an 
opportunity to show you that I will keep mine.” 

“ I have sad news to give you, monsieur,” said the 
prince with emotion. 


294 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


The young man smiled bitterly. 

“ Speak, prince, ” said he. “ I am prepared for any- 
thing. ” 

“ Monsieur, ” said the prince with a degree of impres- 
siveness that might have been regarded as surprising in a 
man who was generally considered to be one of the most 
frivolous of his day, “ we are living in a period when 
notions of good and ill are confused, changing, unde- 
cided. For some time the world has seemed to be in a 
sort of childbirth, and the throes of its travail have cast 
sinister enlightenment into the souls of some, while 
those of others have been plunged into profoundest dark- 
ness. What will be the result of the encounter of the 
passions conflicting at this moment, I do not know — ” 

‘‘ Why do you not say at once, prince, — ‘ Young man, 
your father is condemned. I promised you your father’s 
pardon, and the pardon has been denied me. I told you 
that your father should not die, and your father is to die 
this night. ’ ” 

“ Monsieur, ” said the prince, almost ashamed of the 
subterfuge by whose aid he was attempting to deceive 
the young man, “ monsieur, matters are not so bad as 
you say.” 

“ Do you tell me to hope, prince? ” demanded Eobert 
Stuart. 

Conde dared not answer; there was in the young man’s 
look an expression which checked the words on his lips. 

“ Yesterday, the sentence of death was not yet ap- 
proved, not yet signed by the king. To-day, in spite of 
my efforts, it is signed, it has been served; in an hour 
perhaps he will be executed.” 

“ An hour ! ” muttered the young man between his 
teeth. “ Many things can be done in an hour! ” 

He darted away and went nearly twenty steps; then, 


THE SON OF THE CONDEMNED. 


295 


returning to the prince and grasping his hand which he 
covered with kisses and bathed with tears, he said, — 

“ From to-day, from this moment, prince, you have 
not a more faithful, more devoted servant than I. I am 
yours, body, soul, brain, arms, heart, and I surrender 
you my life even to the last drop of niy blood ! ” 

And this time he moved away at a slow pace and, 
after giving the prince a final inclination of the head, he 
disappeared at the turn of the quay. 


296 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


XXVI. 

HIS OWN MASTER, 

The young man was already abreast of the point of La 
Cite, and the prince had not yet emerged from the 
reverie into which he had fallen. 

It is true that his reverie had perhaps, by one of the 
frequent whims of memory, reverted from Kobert Stuart 
to the note dropped from a window of the Louvre, and 
which the prince had just read half an hour before in the 
glimmering light of the Madonna’s lamp. 

Whatever might have been the tendency of his brown 
study, he was drawn from it by a new and unexpected 
incident. 

A youth, bareheaded and without his doublet, dashed 
out of the Louvre and with panting breath crossed the 
square at a run, as if he had been pursued by a mad dog. 

The prince recognized him as the page of the Marechal 
de Saint Andre, whom he had seen first at the inn near 
Saint Denis, and again in the park at Saint Cloud. 

“ Hey ! ” cried the prince when he was ten paces away, 
“ where are you running so fast, my young master ? ” 

The youth stopped as suddenly as if an insurmountable 
barrier had presented itself in his path. 

“ Is it you , monseigneur 1 ” cried he in turn recognizing 
the prince, in spite of the dark cloak enveloping him and 
the broad-brimmed hat that covered his eyes. 

“ Parhleu ! yes, it is I ; and it is you also, if I mis- 
take not? You are Mezieres, Monsieur de Saint Andrd’s 
young page, are you not ? ” 


HIS OWN MASTER. 


297 


“Yes, monseigneur.” 

“And, what is more, if I am to trust appearances, 
enamored of Mademoiselle Charlotte ? ” added the 
prince. 

“ Oh ! I was, yes, monseigneur, but I am not so any 
longer.” 

“ Good! ” 

“1 swear it! ” 

“ You are very fortunate, young man, ” said the prince 
half gayly, half sadly, “ to be able thus to discard your 
loves j but I do not believe it.” 

“ Why, monseigneur ? ” 

“ If you were not in love like a madman, or as mad as 
a lover, nothing would explain this disheveled race in the 
darkness and at this hour of the night.” 

“Monseigneur,” said the page, “I have just suffered 
the most deadly outrage that a man ever endured. ” 

• “ A man ! ” laughed the prince. “ Of whom are you 
speaking? Hot of yourself? ” 

“ Why should it not be of myself ? ” 

“ Because you are but a child.” 

“ I tell you, monseigneur, ” continued the youth, “ I 
tell you that I have been most dreadfully maltreated. 
Man or child, as I have the right to wear a sword at my 
side, I will be revenged.” 

“ If you have the right to wear a sword at your side, 
you should have made use of it.” 

“ I was caught by the valets, overcome, bound down, 
and — ” 

The young man broke off with a gesture of unspeakable 
wrath, and his blue eyes, like the eyes of night-prowling 
beasts, flashed twin streams of light into the darkness. 

By that token, the prince recognized the man of hate 
and of bloodshed. 


298 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ And — ” repeated the prince. 

“ And whipped, monseigneur ! ” added the youth, with 
a cry of rage. 

“Then,” said the prince lightly, “you must see that 
you were not treated as a man hut as a child.” 

“ Monseigneur, monseigneur, ” cried Mezieres, “ children 
quickly become men, when they are seventeen years old 
and have such an insult to avenge ! ” 

“ That is right ! ” said the prince again becoming seri- 
ous. “ I like to hear you speak thus, young man. But 
how did you incur such an affront ? ” 

“ I was, as you have just said, monseigneur, madly in 
love with Mademoiselle de Saint Andre. -Pardon this 
confession made to you, monseigneur — ” 

“ And why should I have anything to pardon ? ” 

“ You loved her almost as much as I.” 

“ Ah I ah ! ” said the prince, “ you were aware of that, 
young man 'I ” 

“ Prince, you will never repay me in good the hun- 
dredth part of the heartache that you have made me 
suffer.” 

“Who knows? Proceed.” 

“ I would have given my life for her, ” continued the 
page, “ and, however great the barrier raised between us 
by her birth, I felt destined, if not to live, at least to 
die for her.” 

“ I understand that, ” said the prince, smiling and mak- 
ing a sign of the hand, as if he would ward off a disagree- 
able thought. “ Proceed.” 

“ I loved her so much, monseigneur, that I should 
have been willing to see her the wife of another, provid- 
ing the other would have loved and respected her as I 
should have loved and respected her myself. Yes, to 
know her loved, happy, and honored would have sufficed. 


HIS OWN MASTER. 


299 


That shows you, monseigneur, the height of my ambi- 
tious views and loving desires.” 

“ Well,” said the prince, “ what happened? ” 

“ Well, monseigneur, when I learned that she was the 
king’s mistress, when I learned that she was deceiving 
not only me, who was more than her adorer, her slave ! 
not me alone, I say, but you who worshipped her. Mon- 
sieur de Joinville who was to wed her, and the entire 
court who, in the midst of that squad of shameless and 
abandoned maids, believed her to be a chaste, pure, open- 
hearted child ; when T experienced this revelation, mon- 
seigneur, when I learned that she was another man’s 
mistress — ” 

“Not another man’s, monsieur,” interrupted Conde 
with an untranslatable accent, — “a king’s.” 

“ Very well! a king’s; but it is none the less true that 
I thought of killing this man, king though he is.” 

“ Diahle ! my fine page, ” said he, “ you go at it tooth 
and nail. To kill the king for a love affair ! If you 
were merely whipped for that idea, it seems to me that 
you do wrong to complain.” 

“ Oh ! I was not whipped on account of that,” said 
Mezieres. 

“ Why then ? Do you know that your story begins to 
interest me ? Only, do you mind telling it as we walk ? 
First, because my feet are literally frozen, and again be- 
cause I have business in the direction of the G-reve.” 

“ Little does it matter to me where I go, monseigneur, ” 
said the young man, “ provided I go away from the 
Louvre.” 

“ Well, that suits marvellously well,” said the prince, 
stamping his feet on the pavement. “ Come with me, I 
am listening.” 

Then regarding him with a smile, he continued, — 


300 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ You see however what a common misfortune will do. 
Yesterday, you thought I was loved and it was I whom 
you wished to kill. To-day, as it is the king who is 
loved, misfortune draws us together and here I am your 
confidant, and a confidant in whose loyalty you have 
such faith that you have just confessed your great desire 
to kill the king. However, you have not killed him, 
have you ? ” 

“No; but I spent an hour in my room a prey to a 
burning fever.” 

“ Good ! ” murmured the prince, “ that is like me.” 

“ Having reached no resolution at the end of two 
hours, I knocked at Mademoiselle de Saint Andre’s door 
to upbraid her for her infamous conduct. ” 

“ Still like me, ” murmured the prince. 

“ Mademoiselle de Saint Andre was not at home.” 

“ Ah ! ” thought the prince, “ here the likeness disap- 
pears. I was more fortunate, myself! ” 

“ It was the marechal who received me. The marechal 
was very fond of me; so he said, at least. He was 
alarmed at seeing me so pale. 

“ ‘ What is the matter, Mezieres ? ’ asked he. ‘ Are 
you ill 1 ’ 

“ ‘ No, monseigneur, ’ I answered. 

“ ‘ What then is troubling you to such a degree ? ’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! monseigneur, my heart is bursting with bitter- 
ness and hate.’ 

“ ‘ With hate, Mezieres, at your age 1 Hatred is un- 
becoming at the age of love.’ 

“ ‘ Monseigneur, I hate, I wish to be revenged. I 
came to ask advice of Mademoiselle de Saint Andrd.’ 

“ ‘ Of my daughter 1 ’ 

“ ‘Yes; and, as she is not here — ’ 

“ ‘ As you see.’ 


HIS OWN MASTER. 


301 


“ ‘ I will seek your advice. ’ 

“ ‘ Speak, my child.’ 

“ ‘ Monseigneur, ’ I continued, ‘ I was ardently in love 
with a young — ’ 

“ ‘ Good, Mezieres ! ’ said the marechal laughing, 
^ tell me of your love affairs. The language of love comes 
as naturally to the lips at your age as the flowers of the 
garden come in the spring ; and is your love requited by 
the one whom you love so ardently? ’ 

“ ‘Monseigneur, I did not even aspire to that. She 
was so much above me in birth and fortune that I wor- 
shipped her from the bottom of my heart as some divin- 
ity, the hem of whose robe I dared scarcely dream to 
kiss. ’ 

“ ‘ It is a court lady, then ? ’ 

“ ‘Yes, monseigneur,’ I stammered. 

“ ‘ And do I know her, too ? ’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! yes.’ 

“‘Well, what is the difficulty, Mezieres? Is your 
divinity about to be married, to become the wife of an- 
other, and is that what troubles you ? ’ 

“ ‘No, monseigneur,’ I answered, emboldened by the 
anger awakened within me by these words ; ‘ no, the 
woman I love is not about to be married! ’ 

“ ‘ And why not ? ’ demanded the marechal, looking at 
me apprehensively. 

“ ‘ Because the woman I love is publicly the mistress 
of another.’ 

“At these words, the marechal became disconcerted 
in his turn. 

“ He became as pale as death, and took a step forward 
while he regarded me sternly and steadily. 

“ ‘ Of whom are you speaking ? ’ he demanded in 
broken tones. 


302 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ ‘Ah.! you know well, monseigneur,' I answered; 
‘ and the reason I speak to you of my vengeance is be- 
cause I presume that you are at this hour seeking some 
one to aid yours.' 

“ Just then the captain of the guard entered. 

“ ‘ Silence! ’ said the marechal to me. ‘ On your life, 
silence ! ' 

“ Then, as if he judged it more prudent still to dismiss 
me entirely, he said, — 

“ ‘ Go ! ' 

“ I understood, or rather, I thought that I understood. 
If ill befell the king, and the harm came through me, the 
marechal would be compromised if seen talking with me 
by the captain of the guard. 

“ ‘Yes, monseigneur,' I replied, ‘yes, I am going.' 

“ And I rushed out by one of the inner private doors 
so as not to encounter the captain of the guard, either in 
the corridor or in the antechamber. 

“ However, once outside of the room, once out of sight, 
I stopped: then I returned on tiptoe, then I applied my 
ear to the portiere, the only obstacle that prevented my 
seeing what was about to take place, but which did not 
interfere with my hearing. 

“ J udge of my astonishment, of my indignation, mon- 
seigneur ! 

“ Letters patent for the governorship of Lyons were 
brought to Monsieur de Saint Andre. 

“ The marechal received title and favors with the 
humility of a grateful subject, and the officer was charged 
to convey the father's thanks to the daughter's lover! 

“ Scarcely had he gone, when I made but one bound 
from my hiding-place into the marechal’s presence. 

“ I do not know what I said to him, I do not know 
with what insult I branded the father who was selling his 


HIS OWN MASTER. 


303 


daughter; but what I do know is that, after a desperate 
struggle in which I sought and begged for death, I found 
myself bound, tied down, in the hands of lackeys, given 
over to the whip, to the rod, to infamy ! 

“ Through my tears, or rather through the blood 
streaming from my eyes, I saw the marechal looking on 
from a window of his apartment. At the sight I swore a 
solemn oath that the man that had caused to be whipped 
the one who had offered to avenge him, should die only 
by my hand. 

“ I do not know whether it was from pain or rage, hut 
I fainted away. 

“ On returning to myself I found that I was free 
again, and I rushed out of the Louvre, renewing the 
solemn oath that I had taken. Monseigneur ! Mon- 
seigneur ! ” continued the page with increasing excite- 
ment, “ it may be true that I am but a child ; yet from 
my love, from my hatred, I think differently ! But you 
are yourself a man ! you are a prince ! Well, I tell you 
now as I told you before, — the marechal shall die only 
by my hand ! ” 

“ Young man ! ” 

“ And still less for the insult that he has inflicted upon 
me than for the one that he has accepted.” 

“Young man,” said the prince, “do you know that 
such an oath is blasphemous ? ” 

“ Monseigneur,” said the page, wholly absorbed in the 
thought that was mastering him, and as if he had not 
heard the prince’s words, “ monseigneur, it is a miracle 
of Providence that on coming out of the Louvre you 
should be the first person I should meet. Monseigneur, I 
tender you my services; our love was the same, if our 
hatred is not'. Monseigneur, in the name of our common 
love, I beseech you to take me among your servants. My 


304 


THE HOKOSCOPE. 


head, my heart, my hand shall be yours, and at the first 
opportunity I will prove that I cannot be accused of in- 
gratitude. Do you accept, monseigneur ? ” 

The prince remained thoughtful for a moment. 

“ Well, monseigneur, ” repeated the young man impa- 
tiently, “ do you accept the offer of my life ? ” 

“ Yes, ” returned the prince, taking the youth’s two 
hands within his own, “ but upon one condition. ” 

“Name it, monseigneur.” 

“ That you renounce your project of assassinating the 
marechal.” 

“ Oh ! anything else that you will, monseigneur, but 
not that! ” 

“ So much the worse, then ! for that is the first con- 
dition that I should impose upon you in entering my 
service.” 

“ Oh ! monseigneur, I beg you on my knees, do not 
exact that of me! ” 

“ If you do not promise what I ask, leave me at once, 
monsieur ; I do not know you, — I do not wish to know 
you. ” 

“ Monseigneur ! monseigneur ! ” 

“ I command soldiers, not desperadoes.” 

“ Oh ! monseigneur, can one man possibly deny an- 
other the right to avenge a mortal insult ? ” 

“In the manner you speak of, yes.” 

“ But is there any other way in this world ? ” 

“ Perhaps. ” 

“ Oh ! ” said the young man shaking his head, “ never 
would the marechal consent to cross swords with one who 
had been of his household.” 

“Naturally,” replied the prince, “in a regular duel, 
no; hut such an occasion may present itself when the 
marechal cannot refuse you that honor.” 


HIS OWN MASTER. 


305 


“ How?” 

“ Suppose that you were to meet him on the battle- 
field.” 

“ The battlefield?” 

“Well, on that day, Mezieres, I pledge myself to 
yield up my place to you, if I instead of you should 
meet him face to face.” 

“ But, monseigneur, will that day ever come ? ” 

“ Sooner than you think, perhaps,” answered the 
prince. 

“ Oh ! if I were sure of that ! ” cried Mezieres. 

“ Who the deuce is sure of anything in this world ? ” 
said the prince; “ there is a probability of it, that is all.” 

The young man in turn remained thoughtful for a 
moment. 

“ Stay, monseigneur, ” he said at last, “ I know not 
whence there comes to me a presentiment, indeed, of 
something strange and threatening in the air ; besides, it 
has been predicted that I — I accept, monseigneur.” 

“ And do you take the oath ? ” 

“Not to assassinate the marechal treacherously, yes; 
but if I meet him on the field of battle — ” 

“ Oh ! in that case, I deliver him over to you, he is 
yours ; yet beware ! ” 

“ Of what? ” 

“ The marechal is a tough soldier.” 

“ Oh ! as for that, monseigneur, I will take my 
chances. May my good or my bad angel conduct me to 
him, — that is all I ask.” 

“Then, it is settled, and on this condition you enter 
my service.” 

“ Oh ! monseigneur ! ” 

The youth seized the prince’s hand and kissed it. 

They were abreast of the Pont aux Moulins ; the quay 
20 


306 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


was beginning to be thronged with people who were 
hurrying toward the Place de Greve., The prince 
deemed it prudent to rid himself of Mezieres as he had 
disembarrassed himself of E-obert Stuart. 

“ Do you know the Hotel de Cond6 ? ” the prince 
asked the lad. 

“Yes, monseigneur,” replied the latter. 

“ Very well, present yourself there, say that from to- 
day you are one of my household, and ask for a room in 
the quarters set apart for my equerries.” 

Then the prince added, with that charming smile 
which, when he desired, made friends of his enemies and 
zealots of his friends, — 

“ You see that I treat you as a man, since I am making 
you your own master.” 

“ Thanks, monseigneur, ” respectfully answered Mezi- 
eres ; “ from this moment, dispose of me as of a thing 
wholly your own.” 


WHAT PKINCE DE COND^’S HEAD IS WORTH. 307 


XXVII. 

WHAT THE PRINCE DE COND^’s HEAD IS WORTH. 

ISTow, let us tell something of what was passing at the 
Louvre while the events which we have related in the 
preceding chapters were taking place ; that is to say, dur- 
ing the two conversations of the Prince de Conde with 
Eohert Stuart and Mezieres. 

We have seen how Monsieur de Cond^ took leave of 
the king, and how Mademoiselle de Saint Andrd took 
leave of Monsieur de Conde. 

Monsieur de Conde having gone, the girl had been 
left overwhelmed with mortification. Like a wounded 
lioness that, at first fallen under a blow, gradually re- 
covers herself, tosses her head and shakes it, spreads her 
claws and examines them, and gains the neighboring 
stream to gaze in it at her leisure and see if she is, in- 
deed, still herself. Mademoiselle de Saint Andre had 
sought her mirror to learn whether, in the terrible con- 
flict, she had lost anything of her marvellous beauty ; and, 
finding herself as alluring as ever under the redoubtable 
smile beneath which she had concealed her spite, she no 
longer doubted the might of her charms, and she took 
her way to the king’s apartment. 

Everybody already knew the event of the night before, 
so that all doors were open to Mademoiselle de Saint 
Andre; and, upon her signifying that she did not desire 
to be announced, officers and ushers ranged themselves 
against the walls, and were content to indicate by a sign 
the door of the bed-chamber. 


308 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


The king was sitting in his great chair, lost in thought 
and meditation. 

Scarcely had he resolved to he king, and already the 
burden of royalty was falling upon his shoulders with 
crushing weight. 

And so, close upon his discussion with the Prince de 
Cond4 he had sent a message to the queen-mother that 
she might command his presence in her apartment, or 
that she might do him the favor to come to his. 

He then waited, not daring to look in the direction of 
the door, lest he should encounter the austere countenance 
of the queen-mother. 

Instead of that austere countenance, however, the 
gracious face of a young girl emerged from the uplifted 
tapestry. 

But Frangois II. did not see her; he had turned his 
head away from the door, thinking that it would be 
time enough to turn around when he heard his mother’s 
firm and rather heavy step creaking the parquetry be- 
neath the carpet. 

Mademoiselle de Saint Andre’s footstep was not of a 
sort to creak the floor. Like the undines, the girl could 
have run along the tops of the rushes without causing 
them to bend; like the salamanders, she might have 
been lifted up to heaven on the crest of a column of 
smoke. 

Therefore, she entered the room without being heard. 
She approached the young king, and when beside his 
chair, she slipped her arms affectionately around his 
neck, and, just as he was raising his head, pressed her 
glowing lips upon his forehead. 

It was not Catherine de Medicis. The queen-mother 
had no such ardent caresses to bestow on her children ; 
or, if she had, she reserved them for the favorite of her 


WHAT PRINCE DE COND^’s HEAD IS WORTH. 309 


maternal alfifections, — for Henri III. But for Francois 
IT., the child that was conceived during a period of ill- 
ness and suffering, and in accordance with a physician’s 
prescription, horn into the world a sorry, sickly creature, 
she scarcely had the affection that a hireling sometimes 
feels for her nursling. 

It was, therefore, not the queen-mother. 

Still less was it the little Queen Marie. 

The little Queen Marie, somewhat neglected by her 
spouse, having been injured by the fall from her horse, 
propped up in a recliiiing-chair, by order of her physi- 
cians who feared a miscarriage as the result of the fall, — 
the little queen, as she was called, was in no condition 
to come to her husband, and had small reason to lavish 
upon him her caresses, which were, for that matter, so 
fatal to all who received them. 

It was, then. Mademoiselle de Saint Andre. 

So the king had no need to see the smiling face above 
his own to occasion the cry, — 

“ Charlotte!” 

“ Yes, my beloved king ! ” responded the girl, “ Char- 
lotte ; you can even say ‘ my * Charlotte, unless you per- 
mit me no longer to say ‘ my ’ Francois.” 

“ Oh, always ! always ! ” returned the young king, who 
recalled at what price he had just purchased the right in 
the terrible discussion in which he had engaged with his 
mother. 

“ Well, your Charlotte has come to ask a question.” 

“What is it?” 

“ What is the man’s head worth, ” continued the girl, 
with a charming smile, “ what is the man’s head worth 
who has mortally insulted her ? ” 

A quick blush suffused the wan face of Franqois II., 
and he seemed for the moment to be alive. 


310 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ Has any man mortally insulted you, my darling ? ” 
he asked. 

“ Mortally.” 

“ Ah ! ah ! this is a day of insults, ” said the king, “ for 
a man has also mortally insulted me; unfortunately, I 
cannot avenge myself. So much the worse then for 
your insulter, my beautiful one!” said Francois with 
the smile of a child as it chokes a bird ; “ he shall pay 
for two.” 

“Thanks, my dear king! I doubt not that the more 
the one who has sacrificed everything for you were dis- 
paraged, the more you would be disposed to defend her 
honor.” 

“ What punishment do you demand for the guilty 
man ? ” 

“ Have I not said that the insult was a mortal one ? ” 

“ Well? ” 

“ Well, for a mortal insult, the death penalty.” 

“ Oh ! oh ! ” exclaimed the king ; “ it is not a day of 
mercy, at all events. Every one is demanding some 
one’s death. And whose head do you demand, my 
cruel beauty ? ” 

“I have told you, sire, — the head of the man that 
has insulted me.” 

“Yet, to give you the man’s head,” said Francois, 
laughing, “I must know his name.” 

“ I believe the king’s scales have but two pans, — one 
of life and one of death, that of the innocent and that of 
the guilty.” 

“ Nevertheless, guilt is more or less heavy, innocence 
more or less light. Well, let us hear, — who is the 
guilty man ? Is it another councillor of parliament like 
that unfortunate Dubourg who is to be burned tomorrow ? 
If so, that would go of itself. My mother is full of heart- 


WHAT PEINCE DE COND^’s HEAD IS WORTH. 311 


burning toward them just now; two of them would burn 
instead of one, and no notice would be taken of the 
second.” 

“ No, it is not a man of the gown, it is a man of the 
sword.” 

“ Provided that he is not associated with the Messieurs 
de Guise, nor with Monsieur de Montmorency, nor with 
your father, we shall still he able to encompass it.” 

“ He not only is not associated with any of the three, 
but, what is more, he is their deadly enemy. ” 

“ Good ! ” declared the king. “ Now all depends upon 
his rank.” 

“ His rank?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ I thought there was no rank for the king, and that 
all his inferiors belonged to him.” 

“ Oh, my fair Nemesis, you go on at a great rate! Ho 
you suppose, for instance, that my mother is my inferior 1 ” 

“ I am not speaking of your mother. ” 

“ That the Messieurs de Guise are my inferiors ? ” 

“ I am not speaking of the Messieurs de Guise.” 

“ That Monsieur de Montmorency is my inferior ? ” 

“ The constable is not in question.” 

An idea flashed into the mind of the king. 

“ Ah ! ” he exclaimed, “ and a man, you pretend, has 
insulted you.” 

“ I do not pretend, I affirm it.” 

“ When did it happen ? ” 

“ But just now.” 

“ Where ? ” 

“ In my own room, to which he came after leaving 
you.” 

“ Ah ! ” returned the king, “ T comprehend. My cousin, 
Monsieur de Conde, is the man.” 


312 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“Exactly, sire.” 

“ And you have come to demand the head of Monsieur 
de Conde?” 

“Why not? ” 

“ Teste ! at what a pace you go, my darling ! a prince 
royal! ” 

“ A fine prince ! ” 

“ The brother of a king ! ” 

“ A fine king ! ” 

“ My cousin ! ” 

“ He is the more guilty ; being of your family, sire, he 
owes you the greater respect.” 

“ My angel, my angel, you are asking too much, ” 
replied the king. 

“ Oh ! hut you do not know what he has done.” 

“Yes, I know.” 

“ You know ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Tell me, then.” 

“ Well, in the corridor of the Salle des Metamorphoses, 
he found the handkerchief you had lost there.” 

“ What next ? ” 

“ In the handkerchief was the note Lanoue had 
written. ” 

“What next?” 

“ He gave the note to Madame TAmirale.” 

“ What next ? ” 

“ Mechanically or maliciously, Madame VAmirale 
dropped it at the queen-mother’s reception.” 

“ What next ? ” 

“ Monsieur de Joinville found it, and, suspecting any 
one to be concerned rather than you, he showed it to the 
queen-mother.” 

“ What next?” 


WHAT PRINCE DE COND^’S HEAD IS WORTH. 313 


“ Then came the wicked prank, where, under the eyes 
of your father and of your fiance — ” 

“ And what next ? ” 

“What! next?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Is not that all ? ” 

“ Where was Monsieur de Conde during that time ? ” 

“ I do not know, — at his hdtel, or hunting after 
adventures. ” 

“ He was not at his hotel ; he was not hunting after 
adventures. ” 

“ At any rate, he was not among those who surrounded 
us.” 

“ Ho, but he was in the room.” 

“ In our room ? ” 

“ In our room.” 

“ Where, then? I did not see him.” 

“ But he saw us, he saw me.” 

“ Did he tell you that ? ” 

“ And many other things besides, as, for example, that 
he was in love with me.” 

“ That he was in love with you ! ” exclaimed the king, 
excitedly. 

“ Oh ! as for that matter, I knew it ; he had said it to 
me, or written it, twenty times.” 

Francois turned as pale as death. 

“ And for the last six months, ” continued Mademoi- 
selle de Saint Andre, “ every night, from ten o’clock to 
midnight, he has been walking under my windows.” 

“Ah! ” said the king in a hollow voice, and wiping 
away the perspiration that beaded his forehead, “ that is 
another thing.” 

“Well, sire, is not Monsieur le Prince de Condd’s 
head less secure than it was ? ” 


314 


THE HOKOSCOPE. 


“ It is SO insecure that, did I not restrain myself, the 
fire of my wrath would take it from his shoulders. ” 

“ And why restrain yourself, sire 1 ” 

“ Charlotte, this is a serious matter, and I cannot deter- 
mine it alone. ” 

“ Yes, you must ask your mother^s permission, poor 
nursling infant, poor king in swaddling-clothes! ” 

Francois darted a threatening look at the girl who had 
just flung at him this double taunt; but he met her 
eye, itself so full of menace, that he turned away his 
own. 

As happens in a fencing-match, steel turned steel. 

The stronger disarmed the weaker. 

And everybody was stronger than poor FranQois II. 

“ Well,” replied Francois, “ if I must have her permis- 
sion, I will ask it, that is all.” 

^ And if the queen-mother refuses you ? ” 

"If she refuses! ” repeated the king, as he regarded 
his mistress with an expression of fierceness of which one 
would have thought his eye incapable. 

" Yes, — if she refuses you ? ” 

“ I will dispense with it.” 

“ Truly, Your Majesty? ” 

“ As truly as it is true that I wish death to Monsieur 
de Conde.” 

“ And for how many minutes do you ask me for the 
execution of this grand scheme of vengeance ? ” 

"Ah! such schemes do not mature in minutes, 
Charlotte. ” 

" How many hours ? ” 

" The hours go quickly, and nothing is gained by 
haste.” 

" How many days ? ” 

Francois paused in reflection. 


WHAT PRINCE DE COND^’S HEAD IS WORTH. 315 


I ask a month,” said he. 

“ A month ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ That is to say, thirty days 1 ” 

“ Thirty days.” 

“ Thirty days and, consequently, thirty nights 1 ” 

Franqois II. was about to respond, but the portiere was 
lifted and the officer in waiting announced, — 

“ Her Majesty, the queen-mother ! ” 

The king indicated to his mistress the little door of 
the alcove which opened into a room that had itself an 
outlet upon the corridor. 

The mistress was no more disposed than was the lover 
to brave the presence of the queen-mother. She fled in 
the direction indicated; hut, before disappearing, she 
still had time to cast these last words back to the 
king, — 

“ Keep your promise, sire ! ” 

A quarter of an hour after the execution of Anne 
Dubourg, the square of Saint-Jean-en-Greve, dark and 
deserted, lighted only by the last gleams of the burning 
fagots that blazed up from time to time, presented the 
appearance of a vast cemetery, and the vaulting sparks 
added to the likeness by representing the fire-flies flash- 
ing among the tombs during the long winter nights. 

And this illusion was still heightened by the aspect of 
two men, who moved so slowly and so silently through 
the square that they impersonated ghosts. 

They had waited, without doubt, to begin their even- 
ing promenade after the crowd had dispersed. 

“ Well, prince, ” demanded one of the two men as 
they halted a short distance from the funeral pile, 
“ what do you think of all this ? ” 


316 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


“ I do not know how to answer you, dear cousin, ” 
responded the man addressed by the title of prince, 
“ but I do know that I have seen many human crea- 
tures die; I have been present at death scenes of all 
sorts; twenty times have I listened to the death-rattle 
of dying men. Ah ! well, never. Monsieur TAmiral, 
has the death of a brave enemy, the death of a woman, 
the death of a child, produced in me such emotions as I 
felt when this soul was quitting earth.” 

" As for me, ” returned the admiral, whose courage 
was not to be questioned, “ I felt myself seized with in- 
explicable terror; and had I been in the place of the 
condemned, my blood could not have curdled more hor- 
ribly in my veins. In a word, my dear cousin,” added 
the admiral, clutching the prince by the wrist, “ I was 
afraid.” 

“ Afraid, Monsieur FAmiral ! ” said the prince, staring 
at Coligny in amazement. “ Did you say that you were 
afraid, or did I misunderstand 1 ” 

“I did indeed say it; and you heard aright. Yes, I 
was afraid; yes, I cannot describe the icy chill that froze 
my veins, the dark presentiment of my own approaching 
end that thrilled my heart. Cousin, I am certain that 
T, I too, shall die a violent death.” 

“ Then give me your hand. Monsieur FAmiral, for I 
have been forewarned that I myself shall be assassinated. ” 

There was a moment’s silence. 

Both stood, erect and motionless, in the ruddy light 
reflected from the dying flames of the fagots. 

The Prince de Conde seemed plunged in a melancholy 
reverie. 

The Admiral de Coligny was lost in meditation. 

Suddenly, a man, tall of stature and enveloped in a 
great mantle, rose up before them, without their having 


WHAT PRINCE DE COND^’s HEAD IS WORTH. 317 


heard even the sound of his footsteps, so profound had 
been their preoccupation. 

“ Who goes there ? ” challenged the two men with an 
apprehensive start, and mechanically laying hold of their 
swords. 

“ A man, ” replied the new-comer, “ whom you last 
night honored with your conversation, and who would 
probably have been murdered on leaving your house, 
had he not been rescued by monseigneur.” 

And with these words, having removed his broad- 
brimmed felt hat and saluted the admiral, the new- 
comer turned to the Prince de Conde and bowed to him 
still more profoundly than to the admiral. 

The prince and the admiral both recognized him. 

“ The Baron de la Kenaudie ! ” they simultaneously 
exclaimed. 

La Kenaudie freed his arm from his cloak and quickly 
extended his hand to the admiral. 

But, swift as had been his movement, a third hand 
was ahead of his. 

It was the Prince de Conde’s. 

“ You mistake, father,” said he to the admiral; “ there 
are three of us.” 

“ Is it indeed true, my son ? ” cried the admiral. 

By the lingering light of the funeral embers, they saw 
a body of men pouring into the farther side of the square. 

“ Ah ! ” said the admiral, “ there is Monsieur de 
Mouchy and his men. Let us withdraw, my friends, 
and let us never forget what we have just witnessed, — 
let us never forget our compact.” 

Just as, by the light of the flames, the three conspira- 
tors had seen Monsieur de Mouchy, Monsieur de Mouchy 
had espied them, but without recognizing them, wrapped 
as they were in their mantles. 


318 


THE HOROSCOPE. 


He ordered his men to advance upon the suspicious 
group. 

But, as if awaiting only this order to go out, the last 
tongue of flame expired and the square was again in 
profoundest darkness. 

And into this darkness vanished the three future 
leaders of the Protestant Beformation, who were to fall, 
one after the other, victims of the oath they had just 
taken. 


TnE END. 


^ijoialg printeli anti Elliistrateti iStiitiong 

OF 

STANDARD FRENCH AND ENGLISH NOVELISTS 

PUBLISHED BY 

LITTLE, BROWN, & CO. 

One Hundred and Five Volumes, Uniform and Unabridged, 

PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE. 


DUMAS. 


New Library Edition of the Romances 


OF Alexandre Dumas. With 76 etched frontispieces, by French 
and American artists, portraits, etc. 54 vols. 121110. Per volume, 
decorated cloth, gilt top, ^1.50; plain cloth, gilt top, ^1.25 ; half calf, 
or half morocco, extra, gilt top, ^3.00. 


Beautiful and uniform editions of these important Historical Novels trans- 
lated into English unabridged, a large amount of matter heretofore omitted being 
supplied, and printed in handsome, clear type, in a style worthy of their merits. 


LIST OF ROMANCES. 


THE VALOIS ROMANCES. 

Marguerite de Valois vols. 

La Dame De Monsoreau 2 “ 

%* This story is also known under the name of “ Chicot the Jester.” 

The Forty-Five . . ” 

*** Sometimes called the “ Forty-Five Guardsmen.” 

In all 6 vols., put up in box. 


THE D’ARTAGNAN ROMANCfcS. 

The Three Musketeers 2 vols 

Twenty Years After ” 

Tee Vicomte De Bragelonne 6 “ 

*#* Portions of this powerful romance have sometimes been issued 
separately under the titles of “ Bragelonne,” “ Louise de la Valli^re,” 
and the “ Iron Mask.” All three stories are included in the above, un- 
abridged, and according to the author’s own arrangement. 

In all 10 vols., put up in box. 


THE MARIE ANTOINETTE ROMANCES. 

Memoirs of a Physician 

The Queen’s Necklace 

Ange Pitou 

*#* Sometimes called “ Taking the Bastille.” 

CoMTESSE DE ChARNY 

Published according to the author’s own arrangement. It 
has sometimes been issued as two separate stories, “ Comtesse de Charny ” 
and “ Andr^e de Taverney.” 

Chevalier de Maison-Rouge ..... 

In all 12 vols., put up in box. 

The Count of Monte Cristo ^ 

With illustrations by Edmund H. Garrett. Put up in box. 


3 vols 
2 “ 

2 ” 


I vol. 
4 vols 


ROMANCES OF THE COURT OF HENRY II. 

The Two Dianas 3 

The Page of the Duke of Savoy . 


THE REGENCY ROMANCES. 

The Chevalier D’Harmental 

*#* Sometimes called “ The Conspirators.” 

The Regent’s Daughter 




I voL 




I 


BULWER. The Novels of Edward Bulwer Lyt- 
TON (Lord Lytton). With 40 frontispieces, by Edmund H. 
Garrett, etched by W. H. W. Bicknell. 40 vols. i2mo. Per 
volume, decorated cloth, gilt top, ^1.50; plain cloth, gilt top, 
^1.25 ; half calf or half morocco, extra, gilt top, $3.00. 

Special Advantages of this Edition. 

The volumes are of convenient size^ easy to hold in the hand. 

The type, made expressly for this edition, is clear and beautiful. 

The paper is of extra quality, affording an important adjunct to the 
printers’ careful and beautiful work, the type being set and the volumes 
printed at the University Press, Cambridge. 

The exquisite frontispieces are etched in the finest manner from draw- 
ings made especially for this edition by Edmund H. Garrett. 

The whole combines to produce a perfect library edition, complete in 
forty volumes, at a very moderate price. 

LIST OF THE VOLUMES. 

THE CAXTON NOVELS 

The Caxtons 

My Novel 

What will he do with It ? 

NOVELS OF LIFE AND MANNERS. 

Pelham ( 

Falkland ) 

The Disowned 

Paul Clifford 

Godolphin 

Ernest Maltravers 

Alice 

Night and Morning 

Lucretia ... 

Kenelm Chillingly | 

The Coming Race | 

The Parisians 

ROMANCES. 

Eugene Aram 

The Pilgrims of the Rhine { 

Zicci ) 

Zanoni 

A Strange Story •••••• | 

The Haunted and the Haunters ) 

HISTORICAL ROMANCES. 

Devereux , 

The Last Days of Pompeii 

Rienzi, the Last of the Roman Tribunes . . . 

The Last of the Barons 

Leila and Calderon ( 

Pausanias, the Spartan ) 

Harold, the Last of the Saxon Kings .... 

Any Story can be supplied separately. 


I vol. 


. I “ 

. 2 vols. 


2 vols. 

1 vol. 

2 vols, 
2 “ 

1 vol. 

2 vols. 


2 vols. 

2 “ 

2 “ 

I vol. 

I “ 

1 “ 

2 vols. 

1 vol. 

2 vols. 
2 « 


2 vols, 
4 “ 

3 “ 


DUMAS {continued). 


HISTORICAL ROMANCES. 


The Black Tulip vol. 

(Scene, Holland: Time, 1672.) 

Olympe de CLi;vES 2 vols. 

(Reign of Louis XV.) 


The above ten volumes put up in box under the title of “ Historical and 
Regency Romances.” 

THE NAPOLEON ROMANCES. 

The Companions of Jehu . 2 vols. 

The Whites and the Blues 2 “ 

*** This story has also been issued under the title of ” The First Republic.” 
The She-Wolves of Machecoul I , 

The Corsican Brothers ) 2 vo s. 

“The She-Wolves of Machecoul” has also been issued under the title 
of “ The Last Vendee.” 

The set of six volumes put up in box, with twenty-four illustrations, including 
historical portraits and original pictures by E. Van Muyden, Felix Oudart, E. H. 
Garrett, and F. T. Merrill. 


THE ROMANCES OF DUMAS. — NEW SERIES. 

Ascanio 2 vols. 

The War of Women 2 “ 

“ Ascanio ” is a romance of the time of Francis the First and Benvenuto 
Cellini. “The VVar of Women” deals with events in the War of the Fronde, 
and the scene of the romance is Bordeaux. 

Black, the Story of a Dog i vol. 

In “ Black,” the author chose a new field and a newtheme. It may well 
rank among his best works, although, strictly speaking, not an historical romance. 
Tales of the Caucasus, comprising “The Ball of Snow” and 

“ Sultanetta ” vol. 

The scenes and characters are as vividly Oriental as those of his historical 
novels are French. 

The above six volumes, put up in a box, with six frontispieces by E. Van 
Muyden and Eugene Grivaz. 


THE ROMANCES OF DUMAS. — NEW SERIES, II. 

Ag 6 nor de Maul 6 on 2 vols. 

Time, 1361, the reign of Charles V. of France. Scene, France and Spain. 
This Romance has been issued in England in an abridged form under the title of 


“The Half-Brothers.” 

The Brigand. A Romance of the Reign of Don Carlos I . . . i vol. 
Blanche de Beaulieu. A Story of the French Revolution) 

The Horoscope. A Romance of the Reign of Francis II i vol. 

Svlvandire. a Romance of the Reign of Louis XIV. i vol. 

*^* This Romance has also been issued under the title of “ Beau Tancred.” 

Monsieur de Chauvelin’s Will I ^ 

The Woman with the Velvet Necklace ) 


The above six volumes put up in a box, with 18 portraits and plates. 

A ny 0/ the above Romances can be supplied separately. 

The new library edition of these important historical novels comprises 
the only complete translations into English, and has been accepted as the 
standard edition of this famous novelist in both the United States and 
England. 


WARREN. Ten Thousand a Year. By Samuel 
Warren. With a Portrait of the author, beautifully etched by 
F. T. Stuart. 3 vols. i2mo. Decorated cloth, gilt top, ^4. 50; 
plain cloth, gilt top, ^3.75; half calf or half morocco, extra, 
gilt top, $g.oo. 

This edition, in clear, readable type, with choice presswork and paper, 
has been accepted as the only adequate library issue of this celebrated 
English novel. 

GEORGE SAND. The Choice Works of the 
Great French Novelist. 

1. Francois the Waif {Francois le Champi). Translated from the 

French by Jane Minot Sedgwick. With a frontispiece especially 
drawn and etched for this edition by the eminent French artist, E. 
Abot. 

2. The Devil’s Pool {La Mare an Diable). Translated from the 

French by Jane Minot Sedgwick and Ellery Sedgwick. 
With frontispiece drawn and etched by E. Abot. 

3. Fadette {La Petite Fadette). Translated from the Fi-ench by Jane 

Minot Sedgwick. With frontispiece, embodying an original de- 
sign and a portrait of George Sand, drawn and etched by E. Abot. 

4. The Master Mosaic Workers {Les Maitres Mosaistes). Trans- 

lated from the French by Charlotte C. Johnston. With a 
portrait of Titian, etched by W. H. W. Bicknell. 

Limited Edition. Seven hundred and fifty numbered sets on 
Windsor hand-made paper. 4 vols. i6mo. Boards, gilt top, ^6.00 net. 

HUGO. The Romances of Victor Hugo. With 28 
portraits and plates by French artists. 14 vols. i2mo. Per 
volume, decorated cloth, gilt top, $1.50; plain cloth, gilt top, 
$1.25; half calf or half morocco, extra, gilt top, ^3.00. 

In preparing this new and very handsome edition of Hugo’s Romances 
no expense has been spared that would produce a really beautiful set of 
Hugo’s world-famous works in type which it is a pleasure to read., and 
in volumes which can easily and co 77 tfortably be held in the hand. Im- 
portant chapters and passages omitted in other editions are included. 

LIST OF STORIES. 


Les Miserables 5 vols. Toilers of the Sea. ... 2 vols. 

Notre-Dame 2 “ Hans of Iceland . . . . i vol. 

Ninety-Three i vol. Bug-Jargal; Claude Gueux I , 


The Man Who Laughs. . 2 vols. The Last Day of a Condemned) 
A 7 iy Story sold separately . 


LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, Publishers, 

254 Washington Street, Boston. 


8^^ '4 


▼ ^ 


* ■ 




Mr 


U 










'IS' 


» A 


\ ‘ ^ 


•V 




.\ I 


I t, 




i * • -, 


rS 


9 




» 




-!!•* - » 




I T 


9 A 

Pi^V 


r.iv 


«■ L . tU 


1 • 


i 


j * 




I 


- r 






♦ Ta 


k 


1'^ , 


I* 

uS 

; ^ 

.w 

f ** 

•'^ 


?<•' 



c 

% 

t 


Irl 

T' i 


-1 


# 

— « 








Xi 


fa 




4‘ 


' r 




^1 


1 


. I ^ 


1 1 ' 




• j 


*»; 








/ 




I I 


» » 


#1 


r» ’< 




- I 


-v. 

■0 <-1 /r 


» • 




<1 


?*.•- 








•\» # » 


h»^ V. 




» » 


.■,r %iv.‘o ■ *v.’‘: 

1 1 ^ i 9 


> 1 _. # £ 


4> 


i« 


f..^f 






I '•> 


* V» •j 


l« « 






i» * 


V Jl 




i ■* *'• * 


•’ I 




?(i-W 


^ * -. 




d. yjrnf. 









. $ ■ 


X*'. 'V.' 

* c‘ 

■' ' Sp- • ■■>';.. '■ 




'I 


4 »♦ 

4 • 


1 


) 






'sm * 


• . »8 


♦ 


• ♦ 4 b 


: 


> I t-* 

* ■/ 




K^' ' 

L'* ^ » 




L- i/ L*' ^ 


.%■ 






. \\ V>v?- ^ ,,4js 

t *' ► ‘ijAijr- -Hi J 


& ; l^..i -S. - 4 > 


U 


< .^ • 













t /- \ I *'•* •*’}^ 

V V-.‘r4 'J ■' ' s . .: 

:’. ■Wr.^rx': 

. u -^ Vft 


^ ■ A. ' 




w - 1 




’■.VI f „,' 

. »1 ‘ ■ . 

i'r'r- ,'> 

T V . j tf 




X 


< Wi -. 


H '4 




\ t} 


K ‘' 


. ' • If* M 

■ I *’.-. V ^ 

' ,i'"MX: 

- <>•, f I ,* ■ ■:• ' ; 

.» •. '\ M ,- .. ,. •' » ■» 

t ■ '» f ' • / , 

1 •' • I '- ,1 

1 '■ ."v|;;.:h;:^” 

- "V . ‘ *• ' I 

i ■ ■ ■'■' • 

i', • I U •• ./ f w 

•■ . #■'■ I • ftf 
it . ‘"‘aLBr ' t ’ '4 






V 




.'• 4 /J 




V;/ 


/«i t > ' 


















































